


The Red Shoes

by Leydhawk



Series: The Red Shoes Open the Door [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Complete, Explicit Sexual Content, Gender Identity, Genderfluid, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 09:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4216392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leydhawk/pseuds/Leydhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penny talking about the red pumps starts McGee on a journey into his gender identity, and when Gibbs and McGee finally hook up, the difficulties of being in a relationship complicate McGee's self exploration. Can they survive the rocky path to a happy life together? (Intended as a serious look at gender identity.) Slash. Begins after The Penelope Papers and becomes AU. McGibbs. Cross posted on ff.net</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Red Pumps

Prologue: The Red Pumps

(Just after The Penelope Papers)

McGee hadn't thought about the red pumps in years, though now that Penny had brought them up, he couldn't get them out of his mind. His recollection was a fond one. He'd gotten positive attention for wearing them, and they'd made him feel comfortable, as if he was like Penny, his favorite adult. It had been the year his mother had broken both of her ankles while his father was deployed, and he'd gotten to live with his grandparents for a whole summer.

Penny had let him play dress up in her bright, soft clothes, and he'd made the discovery of the shoes on a rainy June morning. The shape had drawn him, and the vivid color. They had curves that his scuffed sneakers or even the shiny dress shoes he also liked, didn't. They looked elegant and beautiful, and when he put them on he felt grown up and confident. He spent the day learning to walk in the three inch heels, the ankle strap helping keep them in place on his small feet. It was such a bittersweet memory; having positively loved those shoes, having been supported and even doted on for wearing them by Penny's friends and the free-form congregation she'd belonged to (also his first experience of acceptance in church), it had been a terrible blow when he went home and his horrified mother forbade them and threw them out. He'd cried for days and drawn pictures of them, but even his artwork regarding the shoes had been banned and relegated to the trash. As an adult, he understood his mother had been protecting him from his father's reaction when he returned from his deployment, but it was a hurt to his five-year-old self which had never fully healed.

It put him in mind of the case they'd had early on in his time on Gibbs' team; there was a petty officer who had cross-dressed full time when he wasn't on duty. He'd felt really sad at the thought of someone feeling like they had to lead a double life like that, but he hadn't put it together with his own experience of the red pumps before. It now resonated for him in a very personal way.

For the next few days, he pondered the correlation and looked deeply into himself to see if he had any desire to dress as a woman. Like when he was at MIT and he'd discovered he was sexually attracted to his roommate and needed to figure out if he was gay, he imagined dozens of scenarios running the whole imaginable spectrum of behavior, this time from full on sex change to only wearing some kind of special clothing in a sexual situation and everything in between. And again, it was as it had been in college: he was somewhere in the middle. Both with his sexual orientation and with the cross-dressing question, he felt he was closer to the norm for his birth sex; he found certain men attractive but tended toward dating women, and while he didn't think he really cared to dress like a woman, he found he wanted to explore fabric and color, maybe try some 80's style men's make-up when he went out clubbing or to a concert.

He pulled a few shirts from his closet that he rarely wore due to the colors and decided that he'd wear them. First up was a dark shirt with pastel on the inside of the collar, then he'd go for the purple button-down with long sleeves. He'd purchased the shirt when the color had appealed to him, and looking at it, the purple gave him a feeling of openness and possibility.

After a few weeks of interspersing his normal wardrobe with the others, Tim found he was enjoying the freedom he felt in allowing himself to wear 'girly' colors. He decided it was time to go further in this exploration, and he went online and ordered a half-dozen self-help books, two he could read digitally and the rest to be delivered. He spent the afternoon immersed in his reading and emerged from the concepts and ideas of non-traditional gender identities with his mind awash in possibilities. He needed to clear his head and did a quick search online to make sure the gay club he used to go to was still open. The last few relationships he'd had with men had suffered due to the level of secrecy he'd insisted on, and he'd given up going to the club after the last guy had broken up with him, sadly citing Tim's non-acceptance of himself. Treating himself to dinner and dancing solo to the pounding eighties music, he finally came home and slept, exhausted mentally, emotionally, and physically.

~~~NCIS~~~

_A/N This story is now complete. It is about Tim's gender identity, but I promise I don't make him go OOC much. I love the character too much to do that. This is about his inward journey, and he finds love with Gibbs along the way. Some readers seem freaked out by this idea, but I hope you'll give it a chance. Go outside your comfort zone of the idea of two genders, and if you like romantic, sexy McGibbs, you won't be disappointed._ _Let me know what you think._


	2. Chapter One: Who Are You?

Who Are You?

McGee ran full out down the alley, dread clenching his gut. Their suspect, a child-murderer, was running, and Tim was trying to intercede before Gibbs killed him. These kinds of cases were devastatingly hard on their team leader. They all knew it and behaved accordingly. But right now, the only one present to temper Gibbs was McGee. His breath rasped harshly in his ears and he poured another burst of speed into his shaking legs and was suddenly out in the street, in front of the suspect. He skidded to a halt, bringing his weapon up.

"Stop!"

Beyond the man, who dropped to his knees wheezing, down at the end of the block, Tim could see Gibbs and knew he'd made it in time. Gibbs wouldn't fire with McGee so close, or with the suspect no longer running.

The silence in the car on the way back to the yard was frigid, and while McGee was sure he had done the right thing, he found his hands shaking and bit his lip to keep it from the beginnings of a quiver. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to accept the feelings he was experiencing as natural and part of him. All the personal growth books he'd been reading said he needed to accept himself completely to find peace and discover who he really was.

Gibbs didn't say a word to him as they put their suspect in interrogation. McGee went next door to observation while his boss vanished for nearly twenty minutes. When the team leader returned, entering the observation room and coming to stand beside Tim, the younger man waited, choosing not to initiate eye contact or conversation. He could smell the fresh coffee and nodded to himself. That was where he'd assumed Gibbs had gone. McGee had felt inclined to go get the coffee for Gibbs, to care for him, but he knew the taciturn man needed time and space alone to process through his own demons. Tim now fought the urge to turn to his boss and place his hand on the man's back and soothe him. A shaking breath kept him from it, and he struggled not to chastise himself for wanting to care for Gibbs emotionally. Taking care of others was part of his nature, and he'd denied it for too long. He didn't have to act on it, just acknowledge it and accept. His next breath was steadier.

"You did the right thing, McGee," Gibbs said quietly, taking a drink of his coffee.

"Thanks, boss."

Gibbs nodded once and headed in to break the suspect.

~~~NCIS~~~

Several days later, DiNozzo watched McGee and Ziva walk from the elevator talking animatedly. He frowned at the way their arms brushed, at the bounce in McGee's step and the relaxed set of Ziva's shoulders. Why were they so happy? The team was waist deep in paperwork, tied to desk work until it was finished. Every report had to be perfect on this one: Gibbs was being especially draconian about it to assure the dirtbag wouldn't walk on any technicality from their documentation.

"What's with you two all buddy-buddy?"

"We walked to work today," Ziva answered. McGee casually put his hand on Ziva's back as he paused and let her pass him to get to her desk, and DiNozzo's eyes narrowed. Tim was getting far too touchy-feely lately.

"Walked? Why would you do that?" Tony asked.

"For fun, Tony. For exercise. I've been putting on a few extra pounds and Ziva has agreed to help me increase my workouts. I never knew how tough pilates is!" Tim smirked at DiNozzo's baffled expression.

"You're doing pilates? Not exactly macho, McGirly."

Tim recoiled at the nickname and withdrew, his good mood fading as he dove into casework. He knew it was just Tony being Tony, but the comment pierced him and he sought refuge in his computer screens, unaware he had ducked down and was physically hiding behind the monitors.

"Tony, are you aware of the female to male ratio in pilates classes? McGee is one of only two men at our Tuesday night sessions. He is quite...popular."

"Really?" DiNozzo asked. "Hmm. Where is this place? Tuesday nights..."

"I will not tell you."

They argued good-naturedly, but McGee kept out of it until Gibbs arrived, snapping at them to get back to work.

~~~NCIS~~~

It was late when Gibbs sent them home. Ziva offered to share a cab with McGee, but he declined. Returning to his empty apartment didn't appeal so he continued to work in the empty squad room, burying his depression at how easily he had let Tony deflate his new vow to accept himself.

With a heavy sigh, he set his computer to continue to double check background searches and stood to go.

Gibbs heard the sigh from where he silently descended the stairs and he frowned. McGee was hurting again. The young man took on too much emotionally, never seemed to figure out how to let the crap roll off of him. There was something different about him lately, though: a fragility that, while it had Gibbs worried, also brought forth a deep desire to protect and comfort him. It felt like a crevasse separated them with no way across, no way for Gibbs to reach out and pull Tim into his arms and shield him from everything. He didn't trust himself to get too close, to express his concern. If he did, the perceptive agent would surely see through him, see his hunger to have Tim in his life completely, sharing every moment.

Smoothing his features, he walked toward his desk, pausing across from McGee.

"Let it go, McGee. Go on home."

Tim nodded and went, slump-shouldered, to the elevator. Gibbs' eyes followed him, and his fists clenched in his wish to chase after him. When the doors opened and McGee stepped inside, his soft, sad voice ripped a hole in Gibbs' heart.

"Good-night, Boss."

~~~NCIS~~~

By the following week, McGee had bounced back and came into work on Monday guardedly chipper. He intended to ignore any insult DiNozzo threw his way and planned to focus on the positive relationships in his life. He'd called Ziva over the weekend and invited her to join a drop-in cooking class he'd found. She had accepted, so when they had a Thursday night free, they would go together until they'd been to all six different style cuisine classes. He was looking forward to what he was privately beginning to think of as 'girl time'.

Mid-morning, Gibbs sent McGee to Abby's lab to retrieve a piece of evidence she was analyzing. Knowing she was cutting down on her Caf-Pow, he brought her a bottle of cranberry juice, and he was in such a good mood he was practically skipping as he entered the lab.

"Hey, Abs! How's it going?"

She glanced at him over her shoulder and sighed, turning back to her monitor. "Hi Timmy."

He quickly went to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

She put her head down on his hand for a moment. "Just...family stuff."

"Well, you know I'm here for you, right? Anytime."

She sighed again and turned to face him. "Thanks. I really just need to stop thinking about it for a while. Hey, is that a new shirt?"

"No, it's one Penny gave me for Christmas and I finally decided to wear it."

She frowned. "Pastels aren't very assertive shades. You need to go bold, McGee."

He froze, blindsided by what he perceived as criticism. "But...well, Abby, I _like_ this color," he mumbled.

"Lavender won't build your confidence. Go for the masculine jewel tones, or white with one of your leather jackets. They really say that you mean business," she advised. It was a testament to her distraction that she didn't see his face go dead white at her words. He bit his lip and swallowed hard as she continued. "Here's that notepad. I don't think there's anything else in there, but go ahead and give it to Gibbs."

Before he knew it, Tim had signed the chain of evidence form and was in the elevator on the way back to the squad room.

Gibbs frowned deeply when McGee handed him the evidence bag and form. He looked terrible. The young agent's mood swings were really beginning to worry him. When he was happy, he seemed genuinely comfortable and light-hearted, but a sad and withdrawn Tim McGee could break your heart.

Gibbs sent DiNozzo and McGee to get lunch together, nodding to his senior agent, clearly indicating he should do something about McGee's mood.

Keeping up a running, upbeat commentary, Tony got Tim out of the building and off the yard before he began inserting rapid inquiries among his jokes. McGee answered automatically, and the older man pieced a few things together.

"C'mon, McGoo, you know Abby could make a clown cry when she's down. Don't let her mood affect you, man."

Tim muttered about her criticizing his clothes.

"Really? You're worried what the adult who shops in the junior's section thinks? I mean, it totally works for her, don't ever tell her I said that, but... Come on! You dress like you've always dressed. You've just been adding to your color palette and that's a good thing. Experimenting is healthy."

Tim perked up at the pep talk, and DiNozzo basked in the approving look he got from Gibbs when they returned with Chinese food for everyone. Halfway through their meals, they got a call out and McGee happily rode with Gibbs while Ziva and Tony brought the truck. Any chance he had to be alone with Gibbs was good. With Gibbs driving, he couldn't watch him as much as he would have liked to, but just being in his presence made Tim feel better. There was an unspoken support and protectiveness and it reminded Tim of how much Gibbs had come to mean to him. He tried to formulate some way to express his appreciation to the man without revealing too much, but he once again failed to come up with the right words or gesture. Still, it was an enjoyable time.

~~~NCIS~~~

Over the next few weeks, the girl time with Ziva along with his continued reading and working on acceptance reduced McGee's mood swings. The occasional emasculating comment from DiNozzo or criticism from Abby knocked him back, but he was trying hard to roll with the punches. He'd picked up some eyeliner and had begun wearing it when he went out dancing, and he felt good enough about that change that he went shopping for new clothes to wear to the club as well. A few poet's shirts with full sleeves that still came to a tight cuff at the wrist in beautiful colors, and some jeans he felt really showed off his butt helped him feel sexy and comfortable enough that he actually accepted when a few people wanted to dance with him instead of dancing exclusively alone. He started getting a collection of phone numbers men and women gave him, and he felt good; wanted and desirable, even though he hadn't pursued any dates yet.

~~~NCIS~~~

"I think I want to redo my bedroom. I've been at that apartment since I moved here from Norfolk, but it's still plain white walls with the comforter my mom sent as a housewarming. Do you think you could help me? Maybe go shopping some weekend?" McGee asked Ziva over one of the meals they'd made together when they had been to all the varieties their cooking class had. Thursday nights, when they weren't working, had become their night, and they'd grown very casual with each other.

"Of course I will help you shop. Does your lease allow you to paint, though? Mine does not."

"Yeah, it does, as long as it's white again when I move out."

"I often go to IKEA in College Park on Sunday afternoon; would you like to go this weekend?"

Tim tried not to show his shock. "Um, sure."

Ziva saw his discomfort and stared hard at him. "McGee: _what_?" She demanded.

"It's just...you hang out at IKEA? Every weekend? That's so..."

"What? That's so what?"

"So not what I ever imagined you doing on weekends. Or...ever, really. What do you _do_ there?"

"It is..." Ziva narrowed her eyes at him. "If you ever tell Tony -"

Tim raised his hands. " _No_. No way. What happens in our friendship stays here. We already agreed to that," he was wildly curious now.

"It is very...normal. Very American: the families and the shopping. I like to look at the rooms they set up, and most of all to watch the people."

McGee smiled. "I can see that. Do you ever... Do you want a family, Ziva?"

She frowned thoughtfully. "I have thought, perhaps...one day, but as I age, I feel as if...the possibility becomes less likely."

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes sad. "I feel that, too."

They finished their meal in silence, and McGee paused before he left. He bit his lip and then reached out to briefly hug his friend. Surprised, Ziva hugged him back and then looked questioningly up at him. He shrugged.

"This was great. I'm really enjoying getting to know you better after all these years. So, Sunday? What time?"

"I like to go at eleven and eat lunch in their restaurant."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Zee."

"Thank you...Tim."

~~~NCIS~~~

They ate swedish meatballs for lunch and spent the afternoon wandering through the huge store. With input from Ziva, Tim chose a color scheme he loved and bought oversized, deep purple heavy drapes he would frame his bedroom window with, making the window seem larger than it was, along with white sheers to block the non-descript view of the next building but which let in light. Sheers a shade or two lighter than the drapes would be mounted on either side of his bed against the wall with a knot tied in them just above his nightstands. Ziva found a tall headboard of dark wood with a stylized scalloped cut to the top of it which would give the wall dressing something to frame. They discussed colors to paint the walls, but the bedding they found was so bold they agreed to keep the paint white. A rich jewel-toned comforter, still in purple but with a bit of black and navy in the pattern and pillows in varying purples and dark blues was their centerpiece.

"You need one other color. These are all very dark, you need a..." Ziva flicked her hands open like a starburst.

"An accent color."

"Yes."

"I don't know. What goes with purple like that?"

They went back through the maze of faux bedrooms and considered the dilemma.

"The yellow is a great contrast, but I don't want yellow that bright in my bedroom," Tim observed.

"What about the gold?"

"Hmm. Not sure."

"Then we will keep looking. This room will be your haven, and if you are going to this expense, it _must_ be perfect."

McGee grinned at her ferocious tone. To her this was like an op, and she was very determined to execute it flawlessly. They turned into a section they hadn't seen before and he gasped. "That's it!"

"Turquoise. Yes. Purple and turquoise are a very regal combination. Good choice." Mission accomplished, Ziva let her guard drop and relaxed.

Tim beamed and they searched for just the right pieces, scurrying around and giggling, comparing pillows and sheets and shams and lampshades in various hues.

The bill was the highest he'd spent since he'd shopped at the designer stores with his first royalty checks, but he felt confident it would be totally worth it.

Ziva begged off with a Skype date and McGee set off to home and spent the evening taking measurements for the hardware he'd need to mount the drapes and sheers then making the bed and trying out different ways to stack the pillows. He slept well that night and woke grinning at the gorgeous colors.

~~~NCIS~~~

His reports complete, McGee left work on time. He grabbed a quick dinner and spent some time searching Yelp reviews for the best place to buy the hardware he needed to finish decorating.

An independent hardware store in Arlington had the best reviews and was open until nine, so he headed out with pictures on his phone of his beloved colors and measurements for what he needed to mount them.

The shop was bigger than he'd expected, and he wandered around feeling a bit lost, looking at the wide selection they had of every bit and bob he thought anyone could ever need, from plumbing to tools to light fixtures, paint, knobs and handles, wood and woodworking supplies -

"McGee?"

Tim turned at the surprised exclamation.

"Boss! _Wow_ , um, yeah, I guess you have to shop somewhere..."

Gibbs was surprised to see his young agent at one of his favorite stores, running his long, slim fingers over the different shapes of pulls for drawers and cabinets.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows in query.

"Oh, me? Yeah, I'm redoing my bedroom. I need to put new hardware up for drapes and stuff."

The cocked head from Gibbs made Tim blush. "This...this is my first time here, and I'm kind of overwhelmed."

"Whaddya need, McGee?"

So he told him and they moved comfortably through the store together with Gibbs instructing McGee what hardware and tools he needed for his project.

With several bags in his back seat and long rods poking out the passenger side back window, as he drove home, Tim marveled at how much Gibbs had actually spoken to him, and he warmed inside at the friendly, relaxed interaction they'd shared.

After he'd gotten his anchor points measured and marked, it was getting late, so he went to bed. He found himself getting hard picturing Gibbs laying back amidst the pillows with him. The snowy hair would stand out in the rich colors, and his gorgeous eyes would deepen to that rich sapphire they were sometimes...

McGee snuggled down among the pillows, pulling his boxers down. He started slowly stroking himself, closing his eyes and seeing Gibbs, naked, on his bed. He imagined crawling up and kissing the man, then slowly working his way down... He'd never risked a peek at Gibbs' cock in the few times they'd been in the locker room or emergency showers at the same time, but he had a very clear visualization of it: thick, eight inches hard, cut, with a full head just begging to be licked and sucked. He groaned as his own head throbbed at the mental image and he reached for his nightstand. Withdrawing lube and a vibrator, his breathing sped up.

He slid the lubed vibrator into himself and shifted his hips to keep it in place, then returned to stroking his cock and fantasizing. Gibbs was leaning over him, kissing him, and he pushed into Tim. Holding his breath, he reached down and flipped the switch, turning the delicious vibrations on. He gasped at the intensity and rocked against it, imagining it was his boss' beautiful hard-on inside him. Calloused hands running through his hair, flicking his nipples... Coffee and bourbon flavored tongue invading his mouth... Gorgeous blue eyes, hooded and dark with desire... The feel of all that crisp hair on Gibbs' chest under his fingers... Deep voice, groaning his name as he fucked him...

"Gibbs!" Tim came hard, panting and shaking.

Over-sensitized, he lay still for only a moment before he quickly switched off the vibrator and carefully rolled out of bed, going to the bathroom to clean up before he returned, put his supplies away, and collapsed back, quickly falling to sleep.

~~~NCIS~~~

Gibbs had a less satisfying evening after seeing McGee so unexpectedly. He had wanted to offer to help with the drapery project but hadn't trusted his ability to resist the temptation inherent in being in McGee's apartment alone with him, let alone in his bedroom...

He spent half the night drinking and sanding, trying to keep the memory of those sensitive fingers of Tim's as they'd traced the drawer pulls and what he wanted them to do to his body, out of his mind.

~~~NCIS~~~


	3. Chapter Two: Finally

Finally

All the years that Gibbs had known McGee, there had been a spark.

These last few months, something had changed. There was a subtle difference in how the young agent moved. He smiled in a more unguarded way, unless a comment from DiNozzo shut him down, but even those reactions were more genuine, more apparent, than they'd ever been. Gibbs hadn't realized just how restrained McGee had kept himself until he started to loosen up. His gentle humor had taken Gibbs unaware and he'd laughed more at work than he had in years.

The affectionate attraction he'd had for McGee had leapt forward into a serious desire to spend more time with him, and the sexual attraction he'd always felt had increased exponentially as well.

Today his iron control had nearly snapped. They'd been in the elevator alone together and a wry observation by the young agent had had Gibbs holding his sides with the best laugh he'd had in longer than he cared to remember. Tim's face had lit up at his boss' reaction, his eyes sparkling, smile dazzling, and Gibbs had taken a step toward him with the intention to put his arms around him before he caught himself. His laughter had choked off with the aborted gesture, and the sweet concern on McGee's face had hit him so hard he had had to turn away abruptly and had nearly stumbled when the doors slid open.

The haunted, hurt expression Tim had worn for the rest of the day had made Gibbs feel like he was being dragged over broken glass. Three glasses of bourbon at home that night had barely dulled the edge, so he changed his clothes and grabbed his car keys. He knew several gay clubs, though he hadn't been to any of them in a while, and he headed back toward downtown to the one which seemed to cater to a younger crowd. He wanted McGee so badly he was ready for a casual hookup with _anyone_ who looked like him.

Once there, Gibbs moved around the club restlessly, prowling. Several times various people attempted to catch his eye, but he either ignored them or brushed them off with a frown and a single head shake. None of them were tall and slim with big soulful eyes. They got the point. Ending up at the rail on the edge of the lowered dance floor, he finally stopped. A figure across and to his right caught his attention. Long, lean legs in snug jeans showed off a fantastic tight ass that swayed to the driving beat of the music. The collared shirt with full sleeves was a deep blue-green color and was tucked in, emphasizing the narrow hips of the dancer. Without a partner, the figured stepped lightly, sometimes whirling too quickly for Gibbs to get a good look at the face. Short hair and the slim hips suggested a man, but the rolling movements had a feminine sensuousness that captivated Gibbs. He watched, enjoying the show, planning how he could entice the person when dancing had lost its appeal.

Following his prey to the darkest corner near the bar, Gibbs missed a step when he finally caught a good look at the individual's face. Timothy McGee. A silent curse filled his mind and he stepped up to the bar and ordered a double shot, tossing it back and keeping an eye on his agent. His face was flushed from his exertion and he'd ordered a bottled water and upended it. Even from a distance, the sight of his long pale neck exposed made Gibbs' breath catch. He motioned to the bartender and sent a white wine before he even contemplated McGee's possible reaction.

Tim's face got a quizzical look when the drink was set before him, but his eyes lasered on Gibbs when the bartender indicated who had paid for his drink. Those eyes widened more than Gibbs had ever seen, and he smiled, trying to convey...he wasn't even sure what he was trying to say with his smile. Tim blanched and took off for the door. Gibbs followed and caught up with him as he reached his car.

"Why are you running, Tim?" Gibbs asked, moving closer, trapping McGee against the vehicle.

"Boss, this is my _private_ life. It has nothing to do with my job, it's _no_ threat to my security clearance!" McGee was nearly shouting his frustration, tears in his eyes, angry at the sense of shame he felt with those bright blue eyes staring hard at him. Gibbs stepped close, right into Tim's personal space, pinning him against the passenger door of his little Prius. Up close, Gibbs could see the smudge of eyeliner making McGee's expressive eyes that much more alluring, the gloss on his lips making the pout he so admired a luscious target. Chests heaving as their breath huffed loudly at each other, they stood still for long moments.

"I'm not here about work, Tim," Gibbs said quietly. McGee's eyebrows twitched uncertainly. "I'm at this club for my own reasons."

"So...you're not mad at me?"

Gibbs couldn't stop himself. He bought his hand up and cupped Tim's cheek in his palm. He'd hurt McGee today. He couldn't stand the thought that he was hurting him more. Unable to find the words to express himself, he tilted his head and hoped that the younger man would be able to read his expression as he so often could when he took the time to try.

The look in Gibbs' eyes was smoldering yet somehow vulnerable. Tim's breath caught as hope welled inside him. If his boss wasn't mad, hadn't followed him to the club to reprimand him, perhaps hadn't even known Tim was there: what was Gibbs doing at such a place? The answer he thought he saw in those amazing eyes was more than Tim had dreamed of.

"Boss, are you..." McGee swallowed hard, trying to stay in some semblance of calm. "Bi?"

"Yeah, Tim. I don't advertise it, but yes, I am."

"So you were here... _looking_?"

Gibbs nodded, unable and unwilling to verbalize that he'd been looking for a way to quench the sweet ache he had for his youngest team member.

Tim let out a long breath, closing his eyes and sagging against the car. Relief and disappointment stole the strength from his legs, but he nodded to Gibbs, trying to show that he understood and wouldn't judge him. The heat of Gibbs' hand still on his cheek and the rough thumb that scuffed across his skin brought Tim's attention back to his boss' face. He searched the blue depths and felt his stomach contract with what he saw there.

Tim's lips parted as realization bloomed in his eyes, and Gibbs let his thumb glide across his agent's upper lip and back across the full lower one, relishing the chance to touch, ravenous with his need to taste. " _Me_?" McGee's voice was faint, hope filling his chest with painful intensity. The brief nod from Gibbs was Tim's undoing. Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks while sobs began, shaking his whole body.

The strong arms that wrapped him up, the warm hand that stroked the back of his neck, caressing through his short hair and the so very masculine scent of wood and bourbon and his own particular musk drove Tim wild; it overwhelmed him completely. He sagged against Gibbs, letting the older man support him as he encircled his waist tentatively.

Gibbs tried to control his own reaction, focusing on reassuring Tim with gentle strokes over his head, down his neck, up and down his back. The shirt Tim wore was softer than cotton but not quite silky like a woman's blouse, although it had moved and flowed around the young agent's body on the dance floor. Gibbs turned his head and breathed in the amazing smell of Tim; there was a faintly underlying floral along with a spiciness over the base scent of clean soap. The blend was intoxicating, and without thinking, Gibbs softly kissed Tim's neck and nuzzled his ear, humming in appreciation.

Tim froze. Gibbs froze. Slowly, McGee drew back to look at his boss. The shock of having his fondest wish, his most erotic fantasy before him went through Tim like an electric charge. Gibbs' gaze ran over his face for a long moment, taking in the hope and wonder in his beautiful eyes, then he leaned in close, offering but not demanding. The percussion of his rapid heartbeat sounded loud in McGee's head, but he took his chance, this singular opportunity, and closed the small gap between them.

It was a kiss they each had dreamed of, and they took their time experiencing it. For Tim it was Gibbs' unexpected tenderness he felt first, for Gibbs the soft pillowy feel of Tim's lips. McGee had imagined kissing Gibbs a thousand times in a thousand ways but he'd never conceived that their first kiss, if it ever came, would be so sweet and subtle. Gibbs locked his knees as they turned to water at the sensation of being exactly where he'd wanted to be for so long; holding and kissing Tim. They remained still, barely moving as they each took in the moment. Finally, Tim made a sound in the back of his throat, a tiny whimper, and Gibbs felt desire rise and crash over him like a tsunami. Pushing firmly into the plush warmth of Tim's mouth, he used his lips to spread Tim's open, gaining access for his tongue. One swipe within the moist cavern and Tim moaned loudly, Gibbs taking the sound into himself, swallowing it, memorizing.

Tim's heart beat wildly and he lost all sense of where they were. He tightened his arms around Gibbs and drew him close even as he leaned back against his car. He was ready, wanted to lay back and raise up and have Gibbs take him right there.

Being pulled hard against the lean body he'd dreamed of having beneath him had Gibbs' head swimming. He kissed Tim passionately, exploring the younger man's mouth, shuddering as their tongues danced around each other's. The taste was exquisite and neither could get enough, the intensity rising higher and higher, winding them both so tight they might break.

Then a catcall from a car leaving the parking lot broke the moment like a bucket of water. Gibbs drew back and they looked at each other, both nearly panting with desire.

"My place is closer," Tim whispered. Gibbs nodded and regretfully stepped back. The night air felt chill after the heat of their bodies. He slid his hand down to hold Tim's slim fingers in his as he took another step back.

"I'll meet you there," Gibbs said. Another step and their arms were extended, hands clinging together. Reluctantly releasing each other they both hurried to get into their cars and get on the road.

The ten minute drive felt like an hour and was plenty of time for doubts and fears to assault both of them. Once inside the apartment, they paused in awkward silence.

"I guess we need to talk," Tim said finally. Gibbs nodded. "Drink? I have your favorite bourbon."

Gibbs' head tilted at that revelation, but he nodded again and stood in the entryway while Tim poured them each two fingers. Gibbs took his glass and led the way deeper into Tim's home, eyes sweeping around, taking in every detail as he passed the metal book cases and found the small sofa. They sat down together, neither drawing away when his knee came to rest against the other's. Tim sipped carefully, Gibbs took a large swallow, and their eyes finally met. Tim's face flushed and Gibbs couldn't help but smile his little half-smile at the sight.

"What?" Tim asked quietly.

"You. Blushing," Gibbs said. Tim frowned and Gibbs shook his head. "It's gorgeous," he clarified, and the blush deepened and the younger man looked away. "Tim, look at me." The big, pale blue-green eyes looked at him and Gibbs felt his heart stutter. "Wanna tell me why you were so defensive at the club?"

McGee shrugged. "I was surprised. I've never run into anyone I know there, and I've gone there off and on for a few months now. It's a good place to dance, with a partner or not. No one says anything if I dance with a guy or a girl or by myself. It's...freeing."

"What do you need freedom from?"

Tim took another sip, thinking. "Judgment. I always feel... I feel like I'm constantly being tested and judged at work; the same with my writing... But I don't have to hide when I go there. I mean, can you imagine DiNozzo's reaction if he saw me like this? I would hear about it for _years_."

"You shouldn't let him get to you."

"You have no idea how bad it can get," Tim whispered, looking away. Gibbs frowned and put his arm around Tim's shoulders, protectiveness surging in him.

"You're right. I don't. _You_ don't tell me. You just sit there and I can feel you suffering some days, so bad... And I'm there for you, but you never come to me," Gibbs shook his head. "And you, more than any of them, you, Tim, I've wanted you to come to me. For friendship, for support, for...anything..."

"You're here now. You said...well, no, you didn't _say_ , but you nodded... Gibbs, that kiss... Do you want me? I mean, really?"

Gibbs set his empty glass down, took Tim's and set it aside as well, then turned to face him, meeting his uncertain gaze with his own. He hadn't let himself dwell on more than wanting sex from the younger man, but in his gut he knew there was so much more than physical attraction going on, and the truth tumbled from his lips before he could consider it. "I've never wanted these things I want from you with anyone before. I want to make something, to craft it, shape it... _with you_."

Tim's chest constricted. It was more than he ever dared hope for, but he couldn't go into something this monumental without full disclosure on his part, and he wasn't even sure what to disclose.

"Tell me why you look like I shot your dog," Gibbs said, his voice tight. The torment on Tim's face was unbearable. McGee shook his head and looked away, his eyes filling with tears and his lips trembling. " _Please_ , Tim, talk to me."

The pleading tone on Gibbs' voice was too much; Tim started talking.

"I'm bi. You, um, you probably figured out that much. And I'm physically a man. So on the subject of identity, I'm really clear on two out of three; sexual orientation and physical sex. But I'm...I'm not so sure about the third: gender identity. I feel...I've always felt, like, well, not always like a boy or a man. Sometimes I do, I mean, I'm happy with the genitalia I have and what I do with it, but I've always felt like I understood and could talk to women in a way that only another woman could... It's, um, it's a transgender thing, in the umbrella use of the word. I'm exploring androgyny, maybe gender fluid. I don't think I'd say I'm bi-gender, I'm more of a mix...that's why the - the makeup and the blousy shirt and these great boots..." Tim extended his leg to show off his footwear. Not quite cowboy boots, with a little heel and zipper up the side, they still looked like either a man or a woman could wear them.

"I want you to want me... _that_ way. I want you to be the powerful man you are and to take me, _claim_ me...to have me surrender to your masculinity. But Gibbs, _I_ am a man, too! I want to be the strong one, the one who takes control... That must disgust you. You're bisexual. You want either a man or a woman, not some addled mix of both. I - I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be, I'm sorry I..." Tim's voice trailed off and his shoulders hunched miserably while he shifted away from Gibbs' arm.

"Are ya done putting words in my mouth, Tim?" Gibbs asked in an exasperated tone. Excitement coursed through his body, some door opening into a world he hadn't known existed. McGee frowned and nodded uncertainly. Gibbs' expression softened. "Good. Look, Tim, I don't understand all the terms you're throwing around. I don't need to. I see _you_ , Timothy McGee, the person. And if you really feel feminine sometimes and masculine others, well, that sounds like goddamn _Christmas_."

"What?" Tim was dumbfounded.

"I _love_ that idea, Tim. That we can share our strength and meet as men, and that you can be soft and strong in a totally different way as well...it sounds like the best of both worlds to me."

"Are you serious?" There was an almost hysterical edge to the question.

The look Tim received said it all and he swallowed hard. "So you...still want me?"

"Tim," Gibbs voice grew husky. "I want you _more_."

Tim moaned and swayed toward Gibbs' chest and the older man held him close and kissed him.

Laying back on the couch with Gibbs' weight pressing down on him, McGee found himself kissed breathless and lightheaded. He could feel Gibbs' erection against his hip and shuddered, rubbing his own on whatever part of Gibbs he could. Finally, though, the kissing and frottage wasn't enough.

"Please, Gibbs, make love to me," Tim whispered gaspingly. The groan he got in return was answer enough and the older man stood and drew him to his feet. Tim bit his lip at the half smile from Gibbs and followed readily when he took his hand and moved to the bedroom.

The work he'd done with Ziva had transformed the space. The rich purples he'd found he loved made the room into a sensual haven, and the quick look Gibbs took earned another half-smile of approval before his warm hands began unbuttoning Tim's shirt. A trembling began in Tim's chest as his skin was exposed, and he bit his lip uncertainly. Gibbs carefully unfastened the cuffs at his wrists and tugged the fabric out of his jeans before he pushed it off Tim's shoulders and he stood topless and exposed. He swallowed hard as Gibbs' eyes scanned his chest and he clenched his fists to keep from covering himself. He had no idea where this extreme self-consciousness was coming from, but his heart was racing and he felt on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

"Relax, Tim. We won't do anything you don't want to do," Gibbs' low voice reassured him somewhat but he still felt fear clenching his gut.

Gibbs could see Tim's struggle. He reached out slowly and stroked his youngest agent's cheek with the back of his hand. Tim's wide eyes closed at the caress and Gibbs let his hand skim further down, along his jaw, down the side of his neck, across his collarbone, then to his chest where he couldn't resist letting his rough knuckles graze Tim's nipple. Tim let his head drop to the side and arched his back at the touch, whimpering. Gibbs repeated the stroke on his other nipple and Tim snapped.

The scratchy yet soft touch had gone straight to his groin, and when it was repeated, whatever self-consciousness he'd been feeling drained away. Tim's eyes flew open and his hands darted forward, pulling Gibbs button-down shirt and undershirt out of his jeans and over his head with one jerk. Caught on his hands, Tim tugged hard until the shirt fell free. Then Tim wrapped his long arms around Gibbs and moaned at the feel of the older man against his skin. The chest hair, Gibbs' soft belly, the heat that radiated from him; Tim drank it in.

McGee had him held tightly and was undulating, rubbing their chests together. The feel of the younger man's soft skin on his own was maddening, and Gibbs reached down and cupped the ass he'd so admired on the dance floor in both hands, pulling their hips together.

"Oh!" Tim gave a small exclamation, then immediately added rutting his pelvis to Gibbs' to his movements.

"Ah! Fuck, McGee..." Gibbs groaned.

"Oh god, oh please, call me Tim. I love it when you call me Tim," he begged.

"Anything you want, _Tim_ ," Gibbs growled, then turned them and shoved McGee back onto the bed. He toed his shoes off and stripped his jeans, underwear, and socks off before he climbed onto Tim and worked to do the same for him. McGee smiled to himself at the accuracy of his imagination when Gibbs' erection came free from his boxers. He hoped he'd have the chance to suck it, though he restrained himself for the time being. Soon they lay naked, side by side, looking into each other's eyes as they began exploring the freshly revealed skin. When Gibbs reached his hands back to palm Tim's ass and let his fingers drift between the firm mounds, Tim stopped him. With a quick kiss and a hushed "Be right back," McGee vanished to the bathroom to take care of hygiene.

Gibbs waited impatiently. He didn't care if things got a little messy, he just wanted Tim back in his arms. Having time to second-guess himself was the worst thing for him. Thankfully, the younger man quickly returned and Gibbs pushed him down on his back and crawled between his long legs. Raising one, Gibbs kissed the instep, nibbled his anklebone, then made his way up the very lightly haired calf. He licked and sucked on the back of his knee and smiled at the surprised sound his lover made before repeating the process on the other leg. Then he lowered Tim's legs back flat on the mattress and moved up beside him to capture his lips.

Gibbs trailed his fingers up the inside of Tim's thigh. Opening, bending his knees slightly, McGee physically expressed his eagerness for the touch. The trust and sensuousness shook Gibbs and he intensified their kisses, swirling his tongue in Tim's mouth.

Lost in the unbelievable sensations, when McGee felt a heavily lubed finger gently stroking his entrance, it took a minute before he broke away to speak. Looking into the gorgeous eyes of his boss, he smiled and forgot for a moment what he had planned to say. When Gibbs maintained eye contact as he carefully slid just the tip inside him, Tim recalled why they were currently not kissing.

"Mmm," he said, rolling his hips into the intimate touch. "You can finger me if you want to, but I don't need stretching," he continued softly. Gibbs cocked his head and there was a flash of a darker response in his eyes; jealousy perhaps? Tim shook his head. "I use a vibrator when I masturbate," he clarified, his arousal fighting his embarrassment and winning. "I haven't been with a man in years." The reassurance was exactly what Gibbs had needed, and his mouth crashed back against McGee's as a second finger joined the first and he used the two in earnest. Tim moaned at the feeling and rolled his hips in time with the penetrations.

Gibbs was losing it. A primal lust, a desire to claim and own and possess Tim _completely_ rising in him. The soft sounds the younger man was making into his mouth were fueling the rising need. He had wanted McGee so long... From the softly rounded face and body when they'd first met to this lean, pale man beside him and every moment in between, every hairstyle, every fashion, every beautiful change and maturation through the years, and now he was here, his fingers buried in the ass he'd dreamed of. And with that realization, he withdrew his hand and rolled on top of his prize.

Tim raised his legs, spreading wide, inviting, and he stroked his fingers over Gibbs' strong biceps, grabbing hold as he felt the pressure of Gibbs' thick cock entering him. He bit his lip, shuddering, looking up at the man he had loved and trusted and wanted, so badly, for so many years. Gibbs' teeth were bared as he slid inside, fulfilling both their desires, and as he bottomed out, Tim gave voice to his ecstasy.

"Yes! Oh god, _GIBBS_!" He cried out, his breath gasping in sobs at the perfection of the moment. _Finally_... He thought. _Finally_.

The animalistic lust he'd felt incinerated in the emotion that rose in him as he heard Tim cry out to him in painfully intense pleasure. Looking down at his lover, at the flush darkening his chest and neck, his lips swollen from kissing, hair tousled, eyes shining with love, Gibbs choked. He wanted to say things to Tim, wanted to tell him that his heart was so full in this moment he thought he could stay here forever, that he hadn't felt this complete and whole and happy since Shannon died, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Tim. But somewhere along the way he'd become a man to whom words only occasionally came with his desires. He faltered, then settled into his comfort zone; action.

He made love to McGee, listening and responding to every sigh and whine and groan, learning the way to please him, taking his time, doing his best to show Tim how he felt.

McGee knew Gibbs, had studied his nuances, learned every subtle expression; this tender, attentive love-making blew his mind. He wanted to believe what he saw in Gibbs' eyes: love, oceans of it. Even with what he'd told the older man about his gender uncertainty, he still accepted and wanted and loved Tim. Tears slid back from his eyes, soaking the pillow beneath his head as he felt himself being made love to in a way he'd never dreamed of.

Gibbs read in the beautiful, trusting eyes that his message was being received, and he redoubled his efforts, finding the best angle, reaching between them to stroke Tim's long, curved cock.

When Gibbs' calloused hand gripped him and began stroking, Tim cried out again, calling his lover's name, his eyes finally closing as he bucked uncontrollably at the perfect sensation of being filled and touched simultaneously. Tension built, anticipation; rising, tightening, cresting; _this was Gibbs, oh my god, **Gibbs** , making love to him, touching him so tenderly, loving him_, and Tim felt the bottom drop from under him as waves of his orgasm shook him.

When McGee came with a sharp cry, his long neck arching, body locking, Gibbs slowed, shuddering as Tim's canal rippled all along his length. When the younger man finally looked back up at him, gasping, he started moving again, gently, thrusting at a less intense angle and smiling at Tim's response when the young agent's head tossed in abandon at the continued loving.

"Yes! Oh god, _yes_!" McGee moaned. He rocked his hips, still enjoying the sensuous dance their bodies performed. With his powerful climax just past, he turned his attention to finding the best ways to please his lover. He reached up and stroked Gibbs' face, ran his fingers through his hair, drew him down for a kiss, then allowed him back up so that Tim could caress other parts of him. Running clawed fingers across Gibbs' pelt of chest hair, his body rose at the continued slow love-making and he finally brushed against Gibbs' nipples. The sound he made at the touch was somewhere between a groan and a growl, and it thrilled McGee. He played with the nubs, flicking them gently, then pinching and rolling them, and Gibbs' hips snapped harder against his, making him gasp. He felt himself hardening again and wriggled slightly to get Gibbs' cock to the best angle. Gibbs grabbed Tim's legs and pushed them further up and Tim shouted as he felt the depth of the penetration. He pinched Gibbs' nipples tightly and Gibbs' strangled cry was quickly followed by hard, rapid pounding as the older man responded.

"Ah! Gibbs! Oh, oh! _Yes_! Oh god! Yes, please, _please_! _Aah_..."

Tim had found his trigger. The pain and pleasure in his nipples zinged straight to the head of his cock and he thrust hard, feeling his own climax approaching. McGee's voice pitched higher as he rammed into the hot, tight cavern, and Gibbs leaned back, shifting Tim's hips up onto his own thighs and humping almost frantically. Those slim fingers twisted and pinched his nipples and he didn't even recognize the guttural sounds he was making in response. His world narrowed to the feel of Tim's hands on him, his ass so hot and sweet; then Gibbs took ahold of Tim's shaft, first running his palm up into the come on Tim's chest from his orgasm and using it to lubricate as he gripped the head and milked him.

" _Aaaaahh_!" McGee gave a drawn out cry at the touch, his body tightening on Gibbs, and Gibbs finally let go totally, slamming madly forward, fist pumping, voice rising in volume until the pleasure overwhelmed him and he froze as he pulsed his seed into Tim, barely hearing the hoarse scream Tim gave as he came a second time.

They stilled together in a rictus of ecstasy, trembling as their orgasms unified them and freed them simultaneously.

When the moment finally broke, Gibbs slumped to the side and Tim slid their bodies apart and settled the older man on his back with his head on a pillow. He propped himself up on one elbow to study the incredible sight of Gibbs, utterly spent and sated, in his bed, in his home, and eternally in his heart.

"Oh my god," Tim muttered. He turned his head and squinted as his clock. "Did you really just go for an hour? You're...superman."

Gibbs barked a laugh. He could feel that his back and knees were going to have hell to pay in the morning but he knew it was worth it. "I have to make each one count at my age."

Tim lay down and snuggled close to the older man's side, resting his head on his shoulder and stroking his fingers through the salt and pepper chest hair.

"Boy did you ever," he smiled. Sex had never been like that for him before. He'd never had the sense he was being honored, worshipped, _loved_ , before. "Gibbs, I love you. I have for a long time. You can't imagine what tonight has meant to me," he said softly. A rough finger tilted his chin up so that their eyes could meet. The emotion he saw in the stunning blue depths made his breath catch and tears well up again.

The little sound Tim gave, that catch in his breath, as their gazes locked was as much reassurance as Gibbs needed that McGee understood everything he wasn't saying. An expansive feeling filled his head and his heart resonated with it; Tim understood him, accepted him, loved him. He felt light-headed with the idea that anyone could know him this intimately, much less accept him with all his flaws. And love him. Tim had said the words. They echoed in his mind as he pulled McGee over for a deep kiss. When they broke away, Tim smiled and stroked Gibbs' face.

"I'm gonna get something to clean up." He sat up and hesitated a moment. "Will you stay tonight?" Uncertainty crept back in with the question, but Gibbs simply nodded and Tim grinned as he got up. He came back with a warm washcloth after he'd cleaned himself and he fastidiously wiped the semen from Gibbs' hand, belly, and penis. Gibbs lay back against the pillows, one arm propped behind his head, and watched. He sensed the joy Tim took in this act of caring for him and smiled, seeing this as another way the man was behaving in alignment with what he felt about himself. The attention felt good, and Gibbs silently reaffirmed to himself that this duality of Tim was very appealing.

Falling asleep with McGee curled against his side, Gibbs was surprised to wake with the dawn light shining between the open drapes and his back warm as Tim spooned him, but he just smiled and returned to sleep.

When they both woke later in the morning, neither could stop smiling, although they didn't say much. Gibbs groaned when he rose, shaking out his stiff knees and stretching his sore back, and Tim led him into a hot shower where he massaged Gibbs thoroughly. Those deft fingers were strong, too, and they worked the knots in his back and shoulders until they loosened. Then Tim spent a long while on his knees rubbing Gibbs' legs as well. Gibbs was slightly surprised that the massage didn't turn erotic, especially with the impressive morning wood Tim sported through the whole thing, but the younger man didn't take it there, and Gibbs allowed him the choice.

"You okay?" He asked as they stepped out to towel off, nodding to Tim's hard-on. Tim blinked and glanced down. Then he shrugged.

"Yeah, no big deal. I'd rather wait and do something together later than take care of it now. Make it count, right?"

Gibbs' grin was lopsided but he didn't argue. Having brought his new lover to orgasm twice the night before gave him the idea to see how many he could get in one go. Three? Four? He always enjoyed a challenge and wanted McGee every way he could think of. That he was young enough to be multi-orgasmic was just another bonus. He was trying hard to keep thinking of this as a sexual relationship and not to consider the emotions and thoughts he'd been having.

~~~NCIS~~~


	4. Chapter Three: Happy Together

Happy Together

"Seriously? Eggs Benedict with crab meat?" Gibbs was floored by the breakfast Tim presented to him. He'd smiled enigmatically and gotten Gibbs settled on the couch reading the newspaper on his tablet (having made the type big enough for Gibbs to read without the glasses he obviously hadn't taken to the club), before disappearing into the tiny kitchen for twenty minutes.

"It's canned crab," Tim demurred. Gibbs just shook his head and ruffled his hair, making McGee blush and smile again. He expounded as they ate. "I took a cooking class with Ziva, and I found I really enjoy it. I look up recipes and try them now. This is one I've made a couple of times as a treat for breakfast. I thought this morning deserved something special."

Gibbs paused in his eating and watched Tim as he carefully cut himself a piece with every ingredient and ate it, chewing slowly. He looked over and their eyes met. Gibbs patted his leg, then squeezed it. "Thanks, Tim."

McGee swallowed hard. That look from Gibbs was one to be savored. He could see the surprise and appreciation in it, as well as the heat and something deeper. He could stare into those eyes all day, reading them as thoughts and feelings passed through Gibbs' mind. Finally, though, he looked away, blushing again.

Gibbs brought his hand up to Tim's neck and rubbed there for a moment before returning to his meal. Tim was reassured by the contact.

When they were finished, Gibbs insistently took the dishes and washed them, stopping McGee from helping with a flat look. He heard the younger man chuckle as he turned away and felt a warm, pleased affection in his chest at the sound. As he washed the dishes and wiped down the kitchen, his mind wouldn't let him keep his fantasy going. Yes, the sex was great and would continue to be fantastic, but he was enjoying _cleaning up_. He was moved by the sweetness of Tim making him a special breakfast, and he kept thinking of all the things he wanted to share with the younger man. He sighed. He was neck deep in this, and if he could have one honest moment with himself, he had to admit was loving it.

Tim stood by his gaming computer and watched Gibbs through the pass through. It felt dream-like that he was here, that they'd made love and slept in each other's arms, and that now he was hand washing dishes in Tim's kitchen. He wanted to hold on to every precious moment, feeling like it could be snatched away at any time. When Gibbs looked like he was almost done, Tim went into the living room and sat down, not wanting to look as needy as he felt.

"I gotta head home," Gibbs said as he rounded the bookcase. Tim's stomach sank and he blinked quickly and nodded, looking away. He'd thought... He'd hoped... But he was wrong. _Oh god, was this it? One night?_ _He'd laid his soul bare, given Gibbs his body and heart and it was over already? Had he been that bad? He should have blown him in the shower. He should have -_

"McGee!" Gibbs said sharply. Tim's head snapped up automatically. "Knock it off. I need clean clothes. You wanna pack a bag and come over or should I come back?"

His jaw dropped and the ache in his chest vanished as if it had never been, replaced by joy as well as chagrin.

"Really?" Tim breathed, wanting to believe it. Gibbs came to him and pulled him to his feet. He cupped his face and looked deeply into his eyes. Tim swallowed hard and fought to keep from crying. Gibbs gently kissed him then drew him into a hug.

"I've waited so long for you, Tim. I'm not letting you go," he whispered, feeling when the younger man lost his battle and wept, and he held him closely. As overwhelming as this was for Gibbs to suddenly plunge into a relationship, the sensitive Tim, with all the current confusion in his own mind, was completely adrift. Gibbs stroked his neck and let his tears soak his shirt.

"I...I... Gibbs, I'm so embarrassed. I keep crying, and you're so incredible... I've been in love with you for so long, and... But I'm so unsure, and you - "

"Hey," Gibbs drew back and looked at Tim's tear-streaked face. They studied each other, and Gibbs could see that McGee needed words from him and he struggled, trying to find the right thing to say. His thoughts from the night before raced through his mind, but he couldn't say those things, they were too deep, too vulnerable. "I want..." He ground his teeth. "Tim, I want you. Not one night. I... _want you_ ," he repeated.

McGee had never seen Gibbs stumble or struggle to find words. He thought he saw the future in Gibbs' eyes, together, but his own insecurities wouldn't let him believe it. He wanted to hear him say it, needed something to hold onto, to counter the negative voice in his mind when he spiraled into self-loathing and fear.

"Not just sex, right? A relationship? I mean, I don't want to ask you for promises or make you uncomfortable, but... I need to know, Gibbs. Please?"

Gibbs nodded. "Yes. A relationship. I want... _everything_ , Tim. Everything."

Tim still looked uncertain, and Gibbs wanted to scream. Instead he took a deep breath and tried again. He met McGee's gaze squarely.

"You're beautiful, and sexy. You're _so_ damn smart, and you're funny, Tim, you make me laugh, and...I don't laugh enough. I've been alone for a long time, but now... Without you, I know I'd be _lonely_. You..." The words ran out. "You _know_. You _see_... Don't you?"

And he did. Moreover, he believed what he saw, and he would try to hold onto it. Gibbs wiped the tears away and kissed him softly, then he cocked his head in query.

"I think I'd like to spend the night with you at your house," Tim replied. "I'll pack."

Gibbs watched him go and relaxed. How much of his not speaking was laziness? It was like trying to stretch a muscle he hadn't used in decades; painful and difficult. But if Tim needed something, if he needed anything, Gibbs was willing to try. That willingness to try was a key thing that had been absent in the relationships he'd had after Shannon, he thought. Hopefully it boded well for this new situation. He didn't want to hurt McGee.

They each drove, by silent consent, and Tim parked behind Gibbs so he'd be able to leave without shuffling cars.

Once inside, he dropped his bag and turned to Gibbs. "Can I have a tour? I've only ever been to your basement."

"Sure."

Gibbs led the way through the ground floor, and Tim chuckled at the lack of food in the kitchen. "I guess we'll order in tonight, huh? I could have brought some eggs or something for tomorrow. We're gonna have to go out for breakfast, too."

Upstairs, the rooms were dusty, and he bit his lip before asking about sleeping arrangements. "I heard you sleep on your couch... Are we gonna be really cozy or..."

Gibbs went to the linen closet and withdrew a set of sheets. He tossed them onto the chair next to the bare, plastic-covered mattress in the master bedroom and a small puff of dust stirred. Tim sneezed. "Umm..."

"Crap. Gonna have to clean up here."

"Let me take one of my allergy pills and grab my inhaler and we can do that this afternoon," McGee suggested. Gibbs smiled, but Tim was uncertain about creating upheaval in Gibbs' life. "If you really want to. I don't have to stay over, I mean, you could come back to my place, or just sleep separately. I don't want to force you to do anything you're not ready to do - "

Gibbs stared hard at him then hugged him. "Don't be an idiot. It'll be good to have something to do this afternoon. I have _other_ plans for this evening," he said suggestively. Tim blushed and bit his lip.

"Good. I have some plans, too. For now, let's at least open the windows in here."

Tim was shaken by Gibbs' willingness to prepare the master bedroom for them. It indicated that he truly meant for this to continue between them, and that thrilled and frightened him at the same time. Taking a deep breath and suppressing a cough from the dust, he decided to roll with it and see where the weekend ended up. _Be present,_ he told himself, _be authentic, and enjoy the unfolding of time_.

Gibbs pulled the sheer curtains down and put them with the sheets into the washer while Tim took his medication and pocketed his inhaler.

"Wanna go get some groceries with me?" Gibbs suggested. McGee looked startled but readily agreed. When they went out to the driveway, Tim shyly extended his keys to Gibbs.

"If you want. Or I can move the car and we can take yours. I just... Will you take the lead for now? I feel... I want to..." He struggled to articulate his desire to be taken care of, to be the more traditionally feminine partner at this moment, but Gibbs smoothly took the offer, even coming around to open the door for him, which made Tim blush yet again, then drove them carefully to the nearest market.

A feeling Gibbs hadn't experienced in a long time made him take the extra care in his driving: that he had something, someone, precious with him that needed to be protected.

At the store, Gibbs pushed the cart and encouraged McGee to get whatever he felt would give him a basis of staple ingredients for when he was at the house in the future, not just for this one weekend, so Tim went heavy on the spices and non-perishables, and lighter on fresh food that would spoil. He bought bacon, eggs, and pancake mix for in the morning, along with milk for his coffee, a loaf of bread, and some cheese.

"I saw steaks in the freezer, but do you mind if I get some chicken?"

Gibbs touched McGee's arm lightly. "Get anything you want. I can cook chicken in the fireplace, too," he said sardonically.

"Or... Will you let me cook? I assumed I would do some cooking there..."

" _Anything. You. Want_."

They shared a long look, until a flush very far from embarrassment began to creep up Tim's neck and face. Gibbs smirked and wheeled the cart back toward the fresh poultry, leaving McGee to get ahold of himself and follow.

Tim straightened his knees to still their shaking. That look had begun innocently and rapidly escalated into the most smoldering sexy look he'd ever received outside of a bedroom. He wanted to be home, now, with Gibbs, madly stripping down and fucking fast and hard. He knew he needed to shake himself back to reality when he wondered if the store had a bathroom they could duck into together. He cleared his throat and turned on his heel, walking slowly, breathing deeply, and concentrating hard on the periodic table. He was attempting to recall the elements in alphabetical order and was up to Germanium by the time he caught up to Gibbs.

"How can you do that without changing expression? It's really pretty impressive," McGee commented. Gibbs smirked again and nodded into the basket.

"Those ok?"

Tim saw he had several packages of boneless skinless chicken breasts. "Sure. Let me get a few lemons and I'll knock your socks off after they marinate the next twenty-four hours."

Tim made sandwiches when they returned to the house while Gibbs moved the sheets to the dryer and hung the damp curtains back up on their rods to dry. They sat side by side out in the back yard to eat at the picnic table Gibbs built many years ago.

"Whatever happened to your dog?" Gibbs asked.

"Jethro is an unofficial drug dog with the Coast Guard. Agent Borin helped me get him placed. He wasn't happy being either stuck at my apartment or at a kennel, and Abby knows all about Coast Guard mascots, so when he ate my laptop, she suggested we call Borin... I've seen him a few times. He's much happier working."

Gibbs nodded in approval and Tim smiled. He hesitantly reached over and put his hand on Gibbs' on the table, but sighed in relief when the older man turned his hand and intertwined their fingers with an affectionate look.

"Gonna have to get used to this, McGee. You're _mine_ ," Gibbs said softly. It was difficult seeing how Tim seemed to have regressed to the unsure, shy person he'd been when they met, and he knew he'd better remind him regularly that this was for keeps.

"Yeah? Then call me Tim. Save my last name for work, it'll help us separate the two worlds."

"You gonna keep calling me Gibbs?"

Tim paused. "I'd like to, but if you really want me to use Leroy or Jethro - "

"Nah. Gibbs is fine," he said quietly. McGee frowned, hearing layers of emotion in the words. He squeezed Gibbs' hand and raised an eyebrow when he looked over. Gibbs shrugged and it took a minute before he elaborated. "Shannon called me Gibbs a lot," he finally explained. Tim paled.

"Oh, god, I don't... I mean... Are you sure...?"

Gibbs smiled at the concern and leaned close until their faces were inches apart and Tim's stumbling words stopped. "Tim." McGee nodded. "Don't make me repeat myself." A smile crept over the younger man's lips and he nodded.

"I don't want to take liberties, Gibbs. I want you to be comfortable with me, so please tell me if I say or do anything..."

Gibbs kissed him firmly, cutting off the words. When he broke off and sat back, Tim's cheeks were red and he shifted on the bench.

"Can we go clean the bedroom now?" He asked breathlessly. Gibbs laughed.

They shifted the boxes into the next room, adding to what was already stored there, then pulled the plastic off the mattress. Gibbs vacuumed before they wiped down every surface with damp cloths. They took a break, sitting on the couch together, holding hands and relaxing, letting the remaining dust settle before they wiped the room down again. By then the sheets were dry and they made the bed together.

Standing across the mattress from each other with the covers tucked in neat hospital corners, the air grew heavy with promise as their eyes met. Tim smiled when he saw Gibbs' lips twitch, and Gibbs found himself grinning at the impish expression on Tim's face. Shucking his jeans and t-shirt onto the floor, Tim crawled across the newly made bed. Kneeling at the edge, he leaned up for a kiss and shivered as Gibbs ran his hands across his bare shoulders, down the crease of his spine, and back up to cup his face.

"Shower," Gibbs said softly. Tim groaned. "There's still dust on us. Let's get cleaned up so you don't have a sneezing fit in the middle of the fun."

McGee sighed, a sound of deep despair belied by the glint in his eyes. "Get naked and wet with you? Soapy and slick and sliding up against you?" Again the dramatic sigh. "If I _must_." He finally grinned and bounded off the bed like a happy puppy, grabbing Gibbs' hand and pulling him along. Gibbs laughed aloud. The sound thrilled Tim, and he eagerly stripped the rest of the way and helped Gibbs do the same. He waited while the older man reached in and adjusted the water temperature, enjoying looking at Gibbs' strong back and the curve of his ass. He had been half hard from the talking and touching in the bedroom, and he was fully at attention when Gibbs turned back to him.

Gibbs snickered and held the curtain back for him, taking his hand to steady him as he stepped over the side of the bathtub. They both soaped their hands and began washing each other.

"Your skin is so soft, Tim," Gibbs said, sliding his hands across McGee's pale chest.

"Thank you. That - that feels really good..." He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of Gibbs' calloused fingers.

"Hmm. You used to have chest hair," Gibbs commented. He'd taken each opportunity afforded him in the past to see McGee's bare skin, although when the whole team had had to use the hazmat showers, he'd always taken the stall furthest from McGee to be safe. Tim didn't respond, lost in sensation. He gently flicked one nipple then dropped his hands away from McGee's body. "What happened?"

Tim's jerked then opened his eyes with a low whine as Gibbs stopped touching him. He blinked at the hard stare he was receiving and mentally reviewed the words he'd just heard.

"Oh, um, I wax. I figured with how sparse it was, I might as well not have any."

Gibbs ran his fingers up the light line of hair just above his darker pubes to his navel. "Glad you left this..."

Tim groaned. "Oh, Gibbs, I'm not sure I can wait until tonight..."

The desperation in his voice made Gibbs smile. "Patience, young one, patience."

Tim looked at him, arching an eyebrow and deliberately bringing his soapy hands up to Gibbs nipples, caressing them and watching the shudder that went through the older man. "You sure?" He purred.

The touch made Gibbs throb with arousal. Without thinking, he grabbed Tim's hands and pushed him back against the wall, kissing him hard. McGee thrilled at the reaction. He'd been swinging back and forth with confidence and pleasure that Gibbs really wanted him, loved him, and insecure fear that this was a fling, something so fragile it would be gone if he breathed wrong. Gibbs hadn't done much initiating of touch and he'd begun sliding back toward worry. Indisputable evidence, rock hard against his hip and the powerful lips crushing his, the tongue sweeping his mouth filled Tim with wonderment and a joy so fierce it was almost painful. He hooked his calf around Gibbs' and pulled his thigh tighter against his groin, grinding his hard-on into Gibbs.

The older man regained control of himself and turned the kiss from a deep plundering to a sensual duel of tongues and lips. He raised both Tim's hands above his head and pinned them with one hand, freeing his other to stroke and touch everywhere. As the soap washed away under the spray, his hand skidded across the smooth skin of McGee's sides, causing the younger man to squirm and giggle. _Oh, god, he's ticklish_ , Gibbs realized, filing the knowledge away, loving the possibilities that fact opened up. His distraction allowed Tim to turn the tables on him, and somehow, he was suddenly against the wall himself, with Tim kneeling in front of him.

"Oh fuck! Tim, god, I've wanted you so long...your sweet mouth..." Gibbs looked down to see McGee's lips wrapped around his cock, those beautiful, expressive eyes staring up at him adoringly, and he was transfixed. Finally, he took ahold of Tim's arm and hauled him to his feet. They stood face to face with the water cascading over them, and Gibbs found himself shaking.

"It's more than sex, Tim. _So much_ more," he said. His voice was thick with his sincerity, and McGee almost cried again. This was everything he'd wanted, too, and he leaned in close to try to show Gibbs that he understood. Their lips met, and Tim poured his whole heart into the kiss. The emotional intensity rose and rose, then subsided back into the physical passion.

Parting enough to tweak Gibbs' nipples, Tim nearly came at the cry he hear _Gibbs,_ of all people, make a sound like that... He froze, holding his breath, trying to think of the name of that thing he always thought of to distract himself...the chart, the one he could recite forward and backward and alphabetically and chronologically and -

Gibbs slapped Tim's ass.

" _The periodic table_!" Tim gasped.

" _What_?" Gibbs' eyes widened and he suddenly began to laugh, howling in mirth as he figured out the secret Tim had just revealed. Tim giggled in embarrassment, laughing with him, and they held on to each other to stay upright.

The water was beginning to cool, so Gibbs adjusted it hotter, then gave McGee a smoldering look as he dropped down. His knees popped, but any discomfort was secondary to his excitement as he slowly started kissing and sucking Tim's cock.

Tim splayed his hands against the tile on either side of his hips, his entire body tingling when he saw what Gibbs intended. _Jesus, Gibbs, **Gibbs** , was gonna blow him oh, oh, fuck!_

It didn't take long. McGee was primed, had been on edge since the morning and had been fighting it. Concern for the state of Gibbs knees also factored in, and so he let go, calling out incoherently, the sensation of lips and tongue and hot mouth enveloping him, coupled with the reality of who this was driving him to completion like a locomotive: unstoppable.

Gibbs had never been much for giving blow jobs, preferring to help his partner finish with his hands but he found McGee to be an exception, and he had to concentrate to avoid coming himself as he listened to the hoarse cry Tim gave as his mouth was simultaneously filled with salty bitterness. He swallowed quickly, but he didn't really mind it. He'd have to try again another time, but he decided he was okay with it if he did end up enjoying it. Everything was different with Tim.

McGee's legs gave out and he slid down to hold onto Gibbs.

"I think we've got the dust off," Gibbs commented casually. Tim burst into laughter, and Gibbs marveled at how much fun they were having; not just the physical pleasure, but the humor and the enjoyment they'd had simply shopping and cleaning the bedroom together. He hadn't ever bothered with painting or decorating, but he knew Tim had transformed his bedroom at the apartment, and Gibbs wondered what the younger man would do with a whole house.

They got out of the shower and dried off. Tim kept a towel on his hips when he ran downstairs to get his bag and put it in the bedroom, but unselfconsciously hung the towel up and returned stark nude to get his clothes. Gibbs had slipped into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt but stood barefoot and admired the way Tim's muscles moved beneath his pale skin.

McGee caught Gibbs watching him as he bent over to pull his boxers on and paused. "What?" He couldn't see Gibbs' expression well from the angle he was at to be certain why he was looking at him, and his fear of judgment and body image issues rose with a vengeance. He dressed fast, face tight with shame, until Gibbs came over to him and stopped him as he started tucking his t-shirt in.

"Why do you keep doing that, McG - Tim? You get all shy and unsure. It's like you're the kid I met eight years ago," Gibbs asked. He was getting concerned about the regression. Tim bit his lip and Gibbs frowned deeper.

"I'm not like Diane, or Stephanie, or Colonel Mann, or any of the other women I've seen you date. I didn't know you were bi, so I... Am I the type of man you usually go for?"

"No. You're not like any of those people."

They sat down on the foot of the bed together in silence. Tim could see Gibbs was thinking, so he waited, tightly clenching his hands before him. Gibbs was trying to find a way to tell Tim what he felt, what Tim needed and deserved to hear, but the words weren't coming.

"You're...more. Than any of them. Don't ever think you're not enough, Tim. _I want you_. I want you now and next week and next year."

It wasn't good enough. Gibbs knew that, but it was all he could find the words for. The smile he got for his efforts let him know it was appreciated, even if it hadn't banished the shadows from Tim's expression. He reverted again to action, pulling Tim close, kissing his hair as he held him.

After a few minutes, McGee drew back. "Are we going out to dinner or should we cook? I need to start that chicken marinating for tomorrow."

"I want to keep you to myself tonight. That okay?"

"Are you gonna make me a cowboy steak?"

"Yep."

"Then that's fine. I'll make the sides and dessert."

"You _are_ dessert."

Tim blushed.

Gibbs got the fire going and they sat on the couch together watching it.

"Would you ever want to go camping with me?" Tim asked, thinking of all the happy times he'd had around a campfire.

"Can we fish?"

"Yeah! I only enjoy fishing from shore, though. Little boats..."

Gibbs smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure." He shook his head. "I haven't gone tent camping in years, though. The ground is a lot harder than it used to be."

"Let me guess, you went totally minimalist: sleeping bag, no pad."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, when _we_ go, I'm taking my air mattress and you'll barely know you aren't in your own..." Tim trailed off, recalling Gibbs' normal sleeping arrangements. "Sofa."

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the idea of using an air mattress, but he had to admit it sounded like just the thing to allow him to stand upright the morning after.

"How did you come to bunk on your sofa full time?" McGee asked. Gibbs shrugged. With anyone else he would have given his flip response about getting used to being kicked out of bed by his wives, but Tim deserved a real answer.

"I used to fall asleep downstairs working on the boat. That got too uncomfortable, but I'd rarely haul my ass all the way up to bed, so I just started keeping the blankets here."

"And you're really okay with us using your bedroom?"

Gibbs turned and touched his face gently. "If I have _you_ to come to bed to, I'll make the effort to climb the damn stairs." That made Tim smile, and Gibbs kissed him softly.

When the fire was ready, Gibbs put the steak on and stood in the kitchen drinking coffee while Tim worked some magic in a frying pan with a shallot and some frozen vegetables which didn't smell half-bad. They ate, McGee proclaiming it the best steak he'd ever had, and then cleaned up together.

Hanging the dish towel up, Gibbs took Tim's hand and pulled him close. He paused between kisses to speak. "After last night..."

"...I've been thinking..."

"...on our next weekend off..."

"...I'm gonna see how many times..."

"...I can make you come..."

"...in one night..."

McGee moaned at the thought.

"You think you could be feminine that way? Just come and come and come?"

"Oh, with you, I think _anything_ is possible," Tim replied breathlessly. He felt it as Gibbs smiled into his kiss. They moved synchronously up the stairs and into the bedroom.

Tim tried to excuse himself to go to the bathroom to get himself cleaned and ready, but Gibbs stopped him.

"C'mon, I don't care," the older man protested.

"I _do_. Especially having experienced your stamina. I don't want anything unpleasant to distract us, or have a big mess to clean up after. I'll be quick."

He was, and when he returned, shirtless, his jeans unfastened and hanging low on his hips, Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "Come here," Gibbs ordered. Tim approached, and they sat on the foot of the bed. He put his hand on the younger man's back and rubbed lightly. "How are you doing?"

"What, with...us?"

Gibbs nodded.

"I'm happy, but I'm scared, too."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows.

"I'm scared this is all just gonna vanish. We go back to work, and this weekend is a dream... I know what you said; that you want this to continue, but I just don't even know how I'll be able to sit across from you and not show everything I'm feeling on my face. This," he tentatively put his hand on Gibbs' thigh, and sighed when Gibbs put his hand on top of it. " _This_ , with you, is everything I want. I want to sing and dance and shout but we're gonna be so deeply closeted... And that's _if_ you don't change your mind - " He squeezed Gibbs' leg to ask for his patience when he started to growl a protest. "This is what I'm feeling, so just let me say it, ok? I'm scared you'll change your mind, maybe thinking it's for my own good or something, and, _god_ , Gibbs, thinking of having _this_ , having _you_ , then losing it... That would shatter me. Oh, man, I don't want that to sound like emotional blackmail, I just... I love you. I want you to love me. It means everything to me right now..."

Gibbs brought his hands up to cup Tim's face and he stared long and hard at him.

"I do."

And Tim melted, his fears vanquished. For the moment.

~~~NCIS~~~

The evening breeze came through the open window, cooling the sweat on their bodies. They'd changed positions several times, Tim insisting they give Gibbs' back and knees a break. Currently, Gibbs lay diagonally on the bed with Tim on top of him, rising and lowering onto him, with Gibbs' hands on his thighs giving him speed and rhythm direction.

McGee had never had sex like this before. Oh, he'd been in all the positions they'd used so far either as a top or a bottom in the past, but to have the love-making go on and on, the pleasure rising and falling like swells at sea, was new and wonderful. He had already come once, while he'd been bent over in the doorway, Gibbs deliberately nailing his prostate with sharp thrusts, and he felt it building again.

"Gibbs, ah, oh, _Gibbs_..." He groaned. Gibbs smiled at the sound and shifted them again, rolling up and laying Tim back, hiking his knees up so Gibbs was in full control of the angle and depth. Tim was so hot inside, and gripped him so tightly, the pressure was exquisite and, hearing the change in Tim's voice and reading that he was nearing climax, he let himself really feel every nuance and ripple as he moved. "Gibbs, oh god, please, _please_ , come with me, please... Come for me, Gibbs," Tim's voice grew stronger, shifting from begging to ordering. He reached up and firmly pinched both Gibbs' nipples.

"Fuck!" Gibbs shouted. Speeding up, slamming his hips forward, Gibbs' breath came in harsh pants, matching the gasps and grunts from Tim.

"C'mon, Gibbs! Come! Come… _now_!" Tim yelled, twisting his grip. Gibbs eyes narrowed, and Tim's widened. Gibbs reached between them, and with three expert strokes, brought Tim to a screaming orgasm. He followed, falling onto the younger man.

" _You **first**_ ," Gibbs growled, and Tim didn't even have the breath to laugh.

~~~NCIS~~~

_A/N So, Tim waxing his chest... In his bathroom drawer, when Abby is looking for a weapon to defend herself in 'Bloodbath', there's a waxing kit. (Obsessive enough to watch the scenes in Tim's apartment frame by frame? Me? Um...yep!) I chose that he'd use it on his chest rather than anywhere else. I found that a really interesting choice for the set dressing and just had to use it. And referring to McGee's enthusiasm as being like a happy puppy is a nod the the wonderful Precious Pup, from her 'Little Boy Found' in the 'Lost Boys' series._


	5. Chapter Four: Everything

Everything

The next morning was again a quiet one. They showered, sharing smiles as they soaped one another. Tim washed Gibbs' hair, and the favor was returned. They indulged in a deep kiss before they shut off the water and dried themselves.

Tim made eggs and bacon and pancakes as he'd planned, and they sat in comfortable silence and finished the pot of coffee together.

"What's your Sunday routine normally?" Tim asked as they washed the dishes. Gibbs shrugged.

"Get a few things done here. Maybe something in the basement. Go in to work sometimes."

Tim smiled fondly, remembering many weekends when the team had not been on call that he'd gotten calls from Gibbs, obviously at his desk in the squad room, working cold cases. "What's your current wood project?"

"Refinishing my neighbor's screen door. Mrs. Pattinson. Widow with failing eyesight. She gave herself a splinter on the damn thing, got an infection because she was too stubborn to ask for help," Gibbs shook his head.

"You've known her a long time," he observed, noting the familiarity in Gibbs' voice.

"She and her husband raised their family there. Their youngest had just left for college when Shannon and I bought this place. Eric, Mr. Pattinson, was great; like a grandpa to Kelly, but Allison was always a grouch." Gibbs paused while drying the last plate, remembering. "Diane called the ambulance the day Eric had his heart attack..."

" _Diane_ did? Really?"

Gibbs smiled at McGee's incredulity. "She's not always the she-witch you met."

"I'll take your word for it."

Gibbs chuckled. "What about you?"

"Sundays?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Sleep. Write. Cook meals for the week. Read. Sometimes go hiking."

"No games, Elf Lord?" Gibbs smiled to show he wasn't intending to be mean but just to use the name as a reference.

"Not too much anymore. Only when I really need a distraction."

"Hmm."

"I admit I've needed distraction from thinking of you upon occasion," Tim offered, smiling a little self-consciously. Gibbs palmed the back of his neck and squeezed.

"God, you drove me to distraction sometimes, especially lately; making me laugh, looking so good," he shook his head.

"So...at the club..."

"In the elevator, I almost slipped. I nearly hugged you, and I couldn't get you out of my mind. I went to that place to find a tall, slim, pale-skinned piece of ass to try to relieve some tension."

Tim blushed. "And did it work?"

Gibbs laughed. "Ah, Tim, I haven't been this relaxed in decades...maybe ever." Part of his mind watched closely to make sure Tim's comment was merely flippant, that the younger man wasn't regressing again and worrying he was only worth a fuck. But McGee's eyes seemed clear of those shadows for the moment.

"I can't imagine being married to Diane or Stephanie was very relaxing," Tim observed. Gibbs continued to grin and chuckled in agreement.

"I want you to come to the wood store with me." Gibbs had been thinking about it and wanted not only to make something for Tim, but to start a project that would take time to finish to show him tangibly that Gibbs wanted this to be a long term commitment. McGee's eyes widened as he took the invitation in, and a shy smile lit his face. Gibbs just nodded in acknowledgement.

Tim took an allergy pill before they left, unsure how much sawdust there would be, but pretty sure a wood store would have some at least. Once there, they walked through the store and he was amazed at the variety of timber they had.

"What do you like?" Gibbs asked as they stood before the hardwoods. There was a display board which had small squares of finished pieces. Tim studied them intently, trying to visualize what would look best either in his apartment or at Gibbs' house. Not knowing what project Gibbs intended, he was unsure what to pick. A light tap to the back of his head made Tim jump. "Quit thinking so much. What calls to you?"

McGee's fingers immediately went to a deep reddish square, tracing the grain. He looked to Gibbs with an uncertain smile. Gibbs nodded.

"Mahogany it is. I'm thinking a double-wide desk so you can use your typewriter _and_ your laptop. Maybe I'll make you a rolling chair, too, so you can go back and forth," Gibbs said. "You want the typewriter part to have a cover? Maybe a roll-top?"

McGee's eyes filled with tears. "That sounds like a big project," he said softly. Gibbs shrugged and gave him an eye-twinkling half-smile.

"Na. A _boat_ is a big project. This is a labor of love."

Tim sniffed and turned away as a store employee approached, not wanting a stranger to see him overwhelmed by emotion. When he turned back, the two men were in discussion about the supply the store had on hand, what they'd need to order, and design options.

"Tim, this is Hayden. Hayden, Timothy McGee," Gibbs introduced. Hayden was short and compact, with a thick beard and glasses. Tim extended his hand and they shook.

"Good to meet you," Hayden had a confident, robust voice, and a firm, calloused handshake. The older men returned to their discussion, and Tim watched Gibbs. The confidence he always exuded was tempered by a calm Tim was pleased to see.

They left with a stack of wood and two books. They unloaded and ate a quick lunch, then Gibbs drew Tim down to the basement. He set the now-complete screen door aside, shrugging when Tim raised his eyebrows at the salmon color. Gibbs' gesture clearly said it wasn't _his_ choice. He rolled out a long piece of paper onto the workbench. They spent the afternoon going through the books, with Gibbs working on the design based on Tim's quietly stated preferences.

Hours later, Tim watched as Gibbs stared intently at the plans, hands on his hips. A feeling had been growing in him through the afternoon; a sense that this was Gibbs' way of telling him he loved him, that he wanted Tim to be a real, long term part of his personal life. It gave Tim the most incredible emotional boost, he felt high. 'Walking on air' was an old-fashioned phrase, but as he moved up behind Gibbs, it perfectly described his experience. He hadn't felt this happy since... He didn't think he'd ever felt this happy. He put his hands on Gibbs' waist and slid them forward, encircling the older man, pressing himself up against his strong back, resting his cheek on his short hair. Gibbs' hands covered his and squeezed.

"Thank you," McGee whispered. Gibbs turned in his arms and looked into his eyes.

As always, Tim's eyes spoke of the exact state of his emotions, and the look in them in this moment made Gibbs swallow hard. His intent with the desk project had obviously worked. Tim understood and appreciated and loved him, and Gibbs felt complete and supported and at peace as he never had before. It shook him that his feelings this weekend seemed to rival that of his first marriage, of the family he'd lost. He hadn't allowed himself to dwell on it, but for months his gut had been making him more and more convinced that he could be happy sharing the rest of his life with his junior agent. This weekend and what they'd shared had allowed him to consider it and begin to make choices accordingly.

Tim wanted to try to do as Gibbs was doing and show his feelings through action. He pushed the older man back and smiled a little as he dropped onto his knees. Unfastening Gibbs' jeans and pushing them and this boxers down to free his swelling cock, McGee quickly took the growing erection into his mouth, wanting to feel as the blood filled it, stiffening in into the rod that had given him so much pleasure already. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on giving the best blow job he could.

Gibbs shuddered, but pulled McGee back. "You don't have to - "

"I've fantasized about doing this, Gibbs. Here, just like this. Let me?"

Gibbs slowly nodded and reached back to brace himself on the edge of his workbench. He watched as Tim's eyes fluttered closed and those sensuous lips parted. Seeing the expression of concentration and desire on Tim's beloved face while feeling the the moist warmth, the slightly rougher glide of tongue on his glans then down the length of the vein, Gibbs groaned. He saw the edges of McGee's lips curve in a smile and allowed himself to vocalize his pleasure as he normally did not.

"Tim... Oh, oh, _Tim_. Ah! So good, Tim, Tim... _Oh yeah_ , ah, fuck! _Ah_!" Gibbs moaned the words and sounds, and Tim grew more enthusiastic, swirling his tongue, taking him deep, moving down to lick and suck his balls while his hands took over action on his cock. Gibbs couldn't watch anymore; his eyes kept closing as his head rolled on his neck at the sensations. One hand snaked forward to rest on the soft, short hair, stroking it, loving the extra connection.

Tim was enraptured by the sounds, thrilling with the smell and taste and feel of Gibbs, Tim worked the blow job every way he could think of, reveling in the experience.

Finally, Gibbs stopped him, pulling reluctantly away. "Tim - babe... Tim - stop..."

McGee blinked, drawn back from his dream-like, ecstatic state. "What?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "Gibbs? Why?"

Gibbs moved his hands to Tim's shoulders and encouraged him to stand up. He wrapped his arms around him.

"I want you, Tim, I want _you_ to feel _me_ , too. Together."

McGee's knees almost collapsed at the sound of Gibbs' voice, so full of passion for him. " _Oh, god, yes_..."

"Upstairs. Now."

Gibbs bent to pull his pants up and Tim stopped him with a gentle touch to his wrist. Gibbs tilted his head questioningly.

"Here. Right here, in your basement... It's your sanctuary. Take me here. Please?"

Gibbs kicked his feet free from his shoes and stepped out of his jeans and underwear, tugging his socks off, then pulling his t-shirt over his head. Deep tremors shook McGee and he stood transfixed by the image of this man he'd wanted, respected, _loved_ for so long standing naked, having given up the enjoyment of a blow job to satisfy them both instead.

"You gonna take your clothes off or do I hafta do it?"

Tim flushed. Oh, how he wanted Gibbs to strip him. But he wasn't sure if it was a real offer or just a rhetorical comment to cause him do it himself.

Gibbs' expression softened as he saw Tim's reaction. And truly, to get to slowly reveal the beauty of his lover's smooth skin was a fantasy he'd indulged in occasionally. He reached out and gently tugged the hem of Tim's t-shirt out of his jeans. He ran his hands up underneath the fabric, stroking up and down the soft skin of his back before sliding his palms around to the front to repeat the action, making sure to run across the hardened nubs of Tim's nipples several times. McGee trembled, biting his lip. Gibbs pulled the shirt off of him, and then caught his lip, making him release it from his teeth. He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip and looked into his eyes.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back," he ordered quietly. Tim nodded, and Gibbs kissed him. When Gibbs unfastened his jeans, Tim sighed into his mouth as the fabric constraining his hard-on was released. He cried out when Gibbs' rough, calloused hand slid inside to stroke his aching cock and fondle his balls. "Shoes." McGee obediently toed his sneakers off and then moaned when Gibbs finally stripped him bare, admiring. "God, you're beautiful..." He ran his hands along Tim's sides, over his hip bones, back to cup his firm ass and pull him tight against him, their erections colliding, pinned between their bellies.

"Ah! Gibbs! _Fuuuuck_ ," Tim whined. Gibbs slid his fingers down, parting, lifting, exposing Tim in the cool air of the basement. McGee's head dropped against his shoulder and he sobbed. "Please. Please," he whimpered. Gibbs' warm fingers stroked across his quivering hole and he cried out, begging. "Gibbs! Please, I need you... _Now_! Please!"

Gibbs moved, side-stepping and turning, ending up behind Tim. He took Tim's arms and placed his grasping hands against the edge of the workbench, then trailed his hands back up to his shoulders and down his back. One hand spread him open again to Tim's moaning delight while he spit on the other. His saliva combined with what was left of Tim's from the blow job, as well as the pre-come at his head was all the lubrication he had available. He lined up and pushed just the head in, shaking with restraint as he leaned forward.

"Tell me if we need to get better lube, Tim," Gibbs said softly. He yelped when Tim's response was to shove back abruptly, impaling himself on Gibbs' thick shaft. Gibbs froze, close to climaxing in the heat and friction. McGee ground his ass back, squeezing, shifting up and down, side to side, trying to get Gibbs to move, to thrust, anything. " _Fuck_ , McGee! Give me a minute!" He snapped. Tim stopped moving. Gibbs could feel the younger man's legs shaking as their thighs pressed together. "God, Tim, your sweet ass... So good, babe. _Too_ good," he murmured, trying to reassure. Tim shuddered and moaned, and Gibbs brought his hand around and fisted Tim. Tim cried out. "See?"

Finally, Gibbs felt some measure of control over himself and he slowly withdrew, squeezing the hard cock in his hand as he did.

"Aaah! Gibbs!" Tim sobbed. The sound was too much. Gibbs knew there was no way he'd last to make Tim come twice, so he released him, taking ahold of Tim's hips as he settled in and started fucking him in earnest. Tim moaned and cried out, whined and writhed. It felt so good; so good. As his eyes fluttered open then closed again, and in brief flashes he could see the tools and hardware on the bench before him, cementing reality into the experience. He'd fantasized this, being fucked by Gibbs, bent over in his precious woodshop, but he hadn't been able to imagine all the strange looking hand tools, or the smells, not only sawdust, but the oils for protecting the metal pieces, the finishes and their thinners, overlaid with the musty smell every unfinished basement had. The hot cock in his ass, Gibbs' hands in their vice-like grip on his hips, the low grunts and soft moans worked him to a fevered pitch. "Gibbs! Oh, Gibbs! _Please_ , please, I'm gonna come... Gonna... Gonna..."

It was too good to last. Gibbs had known it when he struggled right from the start, so he moved with abandon, thrusting hard, and when Tim called his warning, he reached around to stroke his lover, and the wail Tim gave, a breathless, high shout, coupled with the tightening on his cock, the rhythmic clutching as Tim pumped his orgasm out made the world explode. Gibbs came, calling Tim's name, filling the quivering canal, shooting deep into the core of this beautiful person he loved so powerfully.

They collapsed together, Gibbs landing hard on his ass, arms holding Tim to cushion him. The impact drove him deep into Tim one last time and they both cried out. Aftershocks trembled through them, and they slumped over on the cold floor.

Moments or hours later, McGee wriggled, drawing away, Gibbs's now soft cock slipping out of him. He knelt and pulled Gibbs up. "Can't stay on that cold concrete; you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

Gibbs groaned and let him help him to stand, leaning on Tim's strength. He wrapped him up in his arms and sighed, closing his eyes, peace filling him.

Tim's heart swelled as they held each other. Gibbs was leaning on him, letting him support him. It meant more than almost anything else they'd done the whole weekend. Tim wanted more than a lover, he wanted a partner, wanted to build something together, side by side. Possibility opened before them, and Tim smiled joyfully to see it. A future. With Gibbs. He held on tight.

~~~NCIS~~~


	6. Chapter Five: Slow Down

Slow Down

At work, with practice, Tim began to get used to compartmentalizing his interactions with Gibbs. The first week was tough, stuck in the office with ice cold cases, and each day he left feeling like Gibbs must not feel the way he did. But then Gibbs would show up at his apartment with the furniture making books and the plans for his desk neatly rolled up, and they'd have dinner and work on the ideas for the desk, make love, and Gibbs would finally slip out around 2 am, leaving a note. The first night, Tim woke to use the bathroom after he'd left and had been bereft, laying awake until morning when the day revealed the short note he hadn't seen from Gibbs. _'Rule 8, especially you. -G'_ it had read, referring to 'don't take anything for granted'. It had left him feeling foolish for doubting.

One night after Gibbs had chewed him out for a computer glitch at work, McGee was brooding when his boss showed up with takeout and wood finish color samples. They ate in silence, but when they'd finished, Gibbs sat up and folded his hands and stared at Tim, waiting. All his years of practice concealing his emotions allowed him to look as if he was cool and calm, but Gibbs could feel his heartbeat had sped up and the food sat uneasily in his stomach with his worry that Tim was going to tell him it was over.

"How do you do it?" McGee finally asked. It wasn't what Gibbs expected.

"Do what?"

"Switch like you do. I...I take work home. Always have. That's why I use the escapes I have; to try to disconnect and unwind. But with - _this_ , um, us, you're so different. How do I shut off these feelings for you? How do we go back to how we were, then have..." He gestured between them then leaned forward and put his hand on top of Gibbs'. " _This_?"

"It's the job, Tim. It's everything to me; my whole life. Justice. The pursuit. Solving the mysteries. Giving people answers, keeping people safe." Gibbs shook his head. It was true. He had become nothing but his job. And then that changed. "And now there's...light, again. There's something beyond the job. It's precious, Tim. I have to lock it up and keep it safe and only let myself experience it..." He turned his hands over and held Tim's in both of his. He looked deeply into Tim's eyes and tilted his head. "Tim, if you can't...I understand. It - it has been the most beautiful time - "

"Don't! Oh god, _please_ Gibbs, don't talk like it's over. It _can't_ be..."

Gibbs let go with one hand and cupped McGee's face, stroking gently, reassuring. "Precious, Tim."

Reading the complex emotions in Gibbs' beloved eyes took time, and Tim searched hard. He considered everything he was seeing and finally came to the conclusion that he didn't have to figure it out tonight. Gibbs wasn't leaving, and he had answered the question Tim posed with aching honesty.

"Thank you," he whispered to the older man. Gibbs smiled softly, his worry about the premature ending of this amazing experience easing. Plenty of other worries still laid heavy on his heart, but this one perfect thing was okay again.

In the weeks that passed, they found how they _were_ able to be co-workers at the office and lovers outside. They developed signals for at the end of the day; your place (chin slightly pointing to the other man), my place (chin dropped slightly toward his own chest), no I'm tired (subtle head shake with briefly closed eyes). Gibbs insisted that Tim continue to see his friends as often as he had before instead of making excuses. So he went over to Ziva's every couple of Thursdays and they experimented with recipes, and one Sunday he went to IKEA with her. After lunch and wandering the store for a while, he asked her to do a little other shopping with him that he'd been thinking about. Ziva helped him choose a couple of new shirts as well as a bag which she called a satchel, but he silently called his purse. It was soft brown leather with a wide adjustable shoulder strap with a gold buckle, and he got a nervous flutter thinking about carrying his personal items in it to the office in front of Tony. She told him that such a bag was not uncommon for a man to carry, and he gratefully accepted the reassurance. He went for drinks with Tony after a tough case, and while the senior agent did tease him about his 'man-purse', Tim sensed it was purely a jest and took it in stride. He dropped everything for Abby as he always had, even when all she needed was a picture hung at her apartment. _That_ call had come at nine pm on a Tuesday while Gibbs was giving him a back rub, and Tim had argued silently with Gibbs' steely-eyed stare while he held the phone to his ear and listened to Abby's pleas and reasons why the picture _had_ to be hung that night. He'd lost the wordless argument, but had gotten his way when he went to Gibbs' house from Abby's and had woken his lover with a blow job.

They grew to understand each other very well but remained carefully on guard from the others in the office. Mostly they spent their free weekends together. Tim happily helped Gibbs with the yard work and house maintenance, then spent time reading or doing research for his new book while the older man worked on Tim's desk in the basement.

As always, Gibbs spent the woodworking time thinking. Sometimes about a case, but more often about Tim. He found himself considering how he was behaving with McGee versus how he'd behaved at the beginning of his relationships with his wives. The only woman he'd ever been this protective of, this hopeful for a future together with, was Shannon. He kept remembering Diane's comment that the only woman he'd loved was Shannon and trying to recall if he ever had felt anything like what he felt for Tim with any woman since then. It shook him to acknowledge that, according to his memory, his first wife and Tim were the only people he'd ever loved.

"I can hear you thinking from upstairs," Tim said, walking slowly down the stairs on a Saturday night.

"Y'know, I can actually believe that," Gibbs replied, smiling. Tim came close for a kiss, and Gibbs wrapped his arm comfortably around his waist.

"Thinking about the Sherman case?" Tim asked, referring to the embezzlement case they'd been on all week.

"Nope. About you. About the wives, and feelings and... Your intense self-reflection has contaminated me. I never used to think this deeply about emotional crap."

McGee grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. As long as it doesn't scare you off..."

"I can't quit you."

Tim stared in astonishment. "Did you just make a Brokeback Mountain joke? Oh my god, we may have to out ourselves to DiNozzo just so I can tell him that!"

They chuckled.

"But seriously, can you tell me about what you're thinking? I know... I know it can be hard for you to express yourself that way, but... I'm in a pretty chaotic place in my 'intense self-reflection', and your...affection, our...um, well, _us_ \- we're one of my main stabilizing forces, and the more words I can actually hear you say, the more I..." Tim shook his head. "Never mind. It's not your thing, I know. I - "

"You drive me nuts when you do that, you know."

"Um. Do...what?"

"Backtrack like that. Assume I can't handle something. Put words in my mouth."

Tim flinched and started to pull away, but Gibbs held tight and turned the younger man's now scarlet face toward him, stroking the red cheek with his thumb. "Hey." Tim kept his eyes down, ashamed of his reaction. Gibbs shook him lightly. " _Hey_." McGee finally met his eyes. "I told you you're not like anyone I've ever been with." Tim nodded. "I'm not the man I was when I was with those people, Tim. _You_ are who I want to be with. You're the only person I can see being in my life long term."

McGee nodded slowly, wanting to believe.

The next morning they spent working in the back yard, trimming bushes and dead tree branches.

"What do you think about maybe putting in a small vegetable garden?" Tim asked. He gestured to a sunny corner. "Over there would be perfect."

Gibbs looked and memory overlaid reality as he looked at the spot Tim indicated. Shannon, kneeling in the rich dirt, carefully planting green beans and peppers and tomatoes and onions while baby Kelly lay on a blanket under an umbrella. He blinked and it was just a patch of grass.

"You gonna be here every day to water it?" Gibbs asked, liking the thought. Tim's look in reply was excited.

"I was thinking about a drip irrigation system with a timer. Or maybe a soil moisture sensor? I'd hate to come back after a rough case to a dead, dried out garden because neither of us had time to tend it."

Gibbs shook his head, smiling. Everything had a technological solution for McGee, but he had to admit it was the only practical way they could attempt this with their work hours.

"Sure. Had one there, once."

Tim stilled. He knew he'd seen a fleeting look of softness on Gibbs' face when he mentioned it, and now he suspected why. "Shannon?" Gibbs looked sharply at him. "I can't imagine any of the exes _I_ met getting in the dirt."

Gibbs nodded. "Shannon grew up on a farm, so she was always wanting to expand and plant more. Good thing Kelly needed a place to play or she'd have dug up the whole yard and started out front, I think."

Tim's breath caught at the casual comment. He watched Gibbs carefully but didn't see any of the sadness he had always noted when Shannon and especially Kelly were mentioned. In fact, there was a smile Tim didn't think he'd ever seen before. Nostalgia, maybe. He reached out and took Gibbs' hand, receiving a look of affection in return.

"Let's see if we can get the roto-tiller running. I haven't used it since I widened the driveway."

Tim carefully began asking about what vegetables Shannon had grown, and what Gibbs would eat, and they worked out a plan for a small rectangular garden which could be expanded later if they chose. As they worked, Gibbs would pause occasionally, and Tim waited patiently as he knew where the other man's thoughts were. But when they quit for the day and went inside to shower, McGee saw none of the melancholy he'd worried might come from all the memories. Instead, the afternoon seemed to have left the older man more content than ever.

~~~NCIS~~~

Gibbs was being stonewalled. They needed access to a witness and the FBI had pulled the man in on an unrelated operation. The team was running on coffee and Gibbs' fury, but even with that, they were down to fumes after nearly thirty-six hours straight. When director Vance stepped in and banished them all for the following twelve hours, assuring Gibbs that he would continue pressuring the Assistant Director at the FBI to give them time to interview the witness, Gibbs left the bull pen without a single indication to McGee of what he wanted or expected.

Tim went home and showered, grabbed two fresh sets of work clothes, paced his apartment for ten minutes, then finally left for Gibbs' house.

He found Gibbs meticulously working on dovetail joints for the desk in the basement. Haltingly, he came down the stairs, unsure of his welcome. Gibbs ignored him, and Tim stood at the foot of the stairs for five full minutes, waiting.

"Are you even gonna _try_ to sleep?" McGee asked when his exhaustion pushed his temper past his caution.

Gibbs didn't stop working. "In a few hours. Maybe." His voice was cold and clipped and Tim had to consciously stiffen his legs at the anger in it.

"I'll sleep better if you come up and lay down with me," Tim said, trying to break through from a different angle, swallowing his own frustration at how Gibbs was behaving.

Gibbs shook his head. "You shouldn't have come."

"You could have told me not to and I wouldn't have. I think part of you wants me here. Will you please come upstairs?"

"No! I'm trying to think." Gibbs snapped. Tim stepped back from where he'd slowly been approaching.

"Gibbs... What can I do?"

Gibbs could hear the hurt in Tim's voice and he stopped working and stood upright, keeping his back to the other man. He hated the sound of pain from Tim, but he was furious and didn't want to make it worse. "Go."

"Not gonna happen."

"Damnit, McGee!" Gibbs whirled and stalked up to Tim, glaring.

" _Tim_. Get your head out of work for a while. Call me Tim," he insisted.

Gibbs shook his head. " _McGee_ , I'm still working, and you're getting in the way. Stay and sleep here if you want to, but get out of my basement."

The tone of his voice held command which could not be challenged. McGee turned on his heel and left, confused and aching.

When the team returned to the office, Vance had gotten them an hour with the witness, at FBI headquarters, so Gibbs went. He took Tony, and remained cold to McGee through the rest of the investigation, refusing to even make eye contact.

When they had their criminal booked and paperwork completed, Tim watched Gibbs carefully for a signal about what they would do after they left the Yard. He got nothing. Not so much as an eye twitch, so when Vance told them all to take Monday off as well as the weekend, Tim went home, dragging himself up the stairs to his apartment with a heavy weight of fear and sadness.

Eating a can of soup because he couldn't face anything else, McGee went straight to bed. When he woke in the small hours of the morning to go to the bathroom, a light from the kitchen caught his attention. He didn't remember leaving any lights on, but he didn't hear any movement, so he walked out to see what it was unarmed. He stopped, sighing and rubbing his face when he saw the silver-haired man sitting at his breakfast bar, facing into the kitchen, drinking coffee. The light was the dim one over the stove; enough to see by but not glaringly bright. It felt right for a visit in the middle of the night. Tim continued on, passing his lover and pouring himself a cup, sipping it for several minutes before he finally turned around. Leaning back against the counter, he silently continued drinking, warily watching Gibbs watch him.

Tim was clad in loose cotton boxers, and his bare chest was powerfully inviting, even with the resentful stare Gibbs was receiving. He felt the urge to turn to action, to go and take Tim by the hand and lead him to the bedroom. He didn't even know if he wanted to make love to the man or just curl up tightly together in the comfort of sleep. But that look from Tim reminded him of how much he'd hurt him in the last few days, so he stayed seated. He was here to make this right, he just kept uncharacteristically waffling about what the right thing _was_.

"It's four a.m., Gibbs. I assume it's _Gibbs_ and not _Boss_ since we're through with the case and I'm standing in my underwear."

"Tim..."

"So it _is_ us time. Does that mean you're here to fuck and go to sleep, or sit there unresponsive?"

Gibbs was surprised by the anger and snarkiness, so he remained silent.

"Look, I know I screwed up. I shouldn't have pushed you when you were wound so tight. But you screwed up, too. We've developed a pretty good system of communication at work. A single look, and I wouldn't have come to your house."

"I know."

"Oh _good_. You _know_. So you purposefully baited me there just so you could throw me out? _Nice_ , Gibbs. Really." Tim was seething. He hadn't realised how angry he was until the words started pouring out. He knew lashing out hurtfully wasn't helping, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Gibbs' face colored. He didn't know what he'd been thinking when he had chosen not to let Tim know he needed space that night. Subconsciously sabotaging this relationship would be typical self-destructive behavior, but part of him wanted to weep at the thought of losing Tim. Another part coldly calculated that it would be better to stop this now rather than draw it out and break the younger man's heart later.

"This is the reason I worry about you, Tim, about...us. I'm a bastard on a regular basis, and I'm not always gonna be able to pull those punches," Gibbs finally said. His honesty shocked even himself. Tim's eyebrows shot up.

" _Did_ you knowingly bait me over just to throw me out?" Tim's voice was a pained whisper. In his years on Gibbs' team, he'd learned enough self-esteem to decide that if the answer was yes, it was unacceptable.

Gibbs thought hard. Had there been any decision to actively hurt Tim? The answer came to him and he blew out a hard breath, sagging in his seat. He shook his head.

Tim's eyes filled with tears of relief, but he was alarmed at Gibbs' reaction. His face had gone nearly gray and he'd aged years in a moment. Tim had never seen him look so vulnerable. He rushed around into the other room, his coffee cup crunching as it dropped, forgotten, from his fingers. He flung his arms around Gibbs from behind, holding him tightly for a moment, then pulling him upright so he could turn him around and see his face. "Gibbs?"

The older man shook his head. "Not you, Tim. _Me_. I was hurting _me_ ," he said quietly, admitting a weakness he never would have imagined he'd have, let alone speak of.

Tim understood that. Self-loathing had been part of his own psyche so long he hadn't known another way of being until he'd found himself, and his worth, at NCIS on Gibbs' team. Added to that the fact that romantic love, for Gibbs, was entwined with pain and loss, it made a twisted sense that his mind would create hurt to go with the other feelings for Tim. He tenderly cupped his lover's face.

"I love you."

Gibbs nodded. He knew it was true, but he still warred with himself. He wanted to melt against Tim, to embrace this deep bond between them, but he knew he was going to hurt Tim over and over. It was his MO, and it was the last thing McGee deserved.

"Gibbs. You don't get to decide for both of us. I can tell you're worried you're going to hurt me, and you're thinking you should end this now, but that isn't just _your_ decision. I love you. I've seen something in you come alive with me, and I won't let you kill that."

Gibbs battled silently, and Tim watched, stroking his face and staying pressed close against his body. He suspected he could break the impasse if he turned the moment sexual, but he could tell that Gibbs was thinking about his feelings and it wasn't something Tim wanted to interrupt.

_Oh god, Tim's eyes were so open, so filled with love and hope._ He'd seen his young lover's confidence grow in these last weeks since they'd been together, seen him continue to struggle tirelessly with what kind of man he was, and ending this relationship was sure to damage all that growth. He knew how damaged McGee was after every breakup he went through, and he knew how much worse this would be, with the two of them and their being together so tied up in Tim's gender crisis. He closed his eyes. He couldn't do that to Tim. And if Tim was right, and there was some goodness growing in Gibbs with this relationship, maybe it was worth it to give himself the chance as well.

Tim felt the tension leave Gibbs' body, and he gave one more long look at the closed eyes before he gently kissed the older man's forehead. Those beautiful blue eyes opened, and McGee grinned as he saw passion rising in them and felt himself moved forcefully to the bedroom.

Later, laying pressed close together as they dozed, Gibbs spoke softly.

"How about at work, if we don't say anything, weekends are at my place and we alternate free nights between here and there..."

Tim kept his breathing deep and even, and he didn't respond. Unsure if he was ready to take that step, he didn't have an answer for that, so he pretended he hadn't heard.

~~~NCIS~~~

Gibbs was learning to see what aspect of Tim was stronger in any particular moment. Androgyny or whatever didn't seem to him the right word to encapsulate this passionate, brilliant, sensuous, sensitive person he loved, no matter how accurate it was technically. Tim had explained how he still felt a duality to himself but was slowly blending his masculine and feminine tendencies into something new and authentic, but Gibbs loved watching as the two sets of traits shifted.

Right now, Tim had headphones on and was swaying, nearly dancing, in the kitchen while he cooked. The hip movements were enticing, but it was the unselfconsciousness that made Gibbs' heart ache with overwhelming emotion. Here, in his home, his lover and partner Timothy McGee was unhindered by his concerns of how others perceived him. He was free and beautiful. And he was Gibbs'.

Tim spotted him and moved his body in time with the music over to Gibbs. He pulled one earbud out and put it up to Gibbs' ear. 'Rescue Me' surprised him, but they listened together, moving closer, Tim continuing to sway even when their bodies brushed with each of his movements. He smiled at Gibbs, that adorable smile of pure happiness, and Gibbs couldn't help but smile back without irony or any hint of sarcasm; Gibbs had no idea his smile perfectly mirrored Tim's.

~~~NCIS~~~

Researching a drug problem on one of the nearby Naval bases, searching for the dealer, the team found that Agent Borin of the Coast Guard Investigative Service was working the supply end of what was likely the same drug ring. A joint operation was agreed upon, and the case led them to a large, wooded park on base as the likely transfer point. CGIS had narrowed the possible fishing boats the supplier was using down to two, and with both having come into port the previous night, the teams were all in, most under cover, keeping watch in the park.

DiNozzo had grumbled about being left in the surveillance van, but had balked at cutting his hair to pass as a member of the military. "Hey, I could be the house husband of some Captain lady or something," he'd argued, but Gibbs just shook his head. Assignments were non-negotiable.

Tim was excited to be reunited with his dog, Jethro, whom Borin had borrowed from his duties as ship's mascot. He still worked as a drug dog for the Coast Guard, though unofficially due to his history, and Borin felt he could be useful on their drug bust. McGee's familiarity with the dog made him the best choice for the cover of dog walker in the park. Gibbs helped him trim his hair to be certain it was regulation cut, and Tim was pretending to be an off-duty Navy lieutenant, out for a day in the park with his dog. He could walk, or stand and play with Jethro, or even sit on a bench and pretend to relax, depending on what the best pretext was for him at any given moment, making him the most mobile unit on the stakeout.

Gibbs, Ziva, and three CGIS agents were wandering or stationary at various points of the park, and Tony and Borin were heading up the surveillance. They had MP's on standby as backup to help with the take down.

Tim had only been walking Jethro for half an hour when Tony started in on him.

"C'mon, McGeek, butch up. You're walkin' like a teenage girl at the mall. You've seen how military guys walk! You're in the Navy... Hey - " DiNozzo started humming the Village People song but stopped abruptly. "Wait - no - scratch that. That won't help you butch up. Think... Navy Seals, the 1990 movie with Charlie Sheen and Michael Biehn, hell, think GI Jane, Demi Moore was more butch than - "

"DiNozzo, cut the chatter," Gibbs growled into his mic. The stream of consciousness babbling stopped.

"Yes, Boss."

But McGee's mind began to work on the comment. _How did he walk?_ Obviously not militarily masculine, or Tony wouldn't have had cause to comment. When he knew himself to be out of visual range of the surveillance van, he tried walking differently, swinging his hips more, and he smiled at the free feeling it gave him. _How much of how he moved was a learned behavior to meet cultural expectations?_ Maybe that was why he'd grown to love dancing at Verse, the club where everything was acceptable in the arenas of gender and sexuality, so much; he could move naturally.

As the hours passed, he continued to go through the park with Jethro and tried different ways of walking and standing. He could feel how important this was in accepting himself, and struggled to concentrate on watching for the drug deal he was there to help spot.

In the end it was in an out of the way corner of the park behind a pump house for the small lake where the bust took place. Gibbs, dressed as a grounds keeper, spotted suspicious movement and the entire team went on alert and then converged on his location when they heard Gibbs identify himself and suddenly shots rang out.

McGee was one of the closest agents and arrived to find Gibbs crouched behind a dumpster, bleeding from a graze on his bicep. He quickly gave a sit rep to the rest of the team, and carefully approached Gibbs. Jethro belly-crawled at his side and watched him attentively when he gestured the dog should stay where he was.

"Boss, how many?"

"Two; a scared kid with a gun and a guy with a briefcase. I saw movement half a block south on the road but it could have been a non-com running from the gunfire. Blue windbreaker, black ball cap, backpack."

"I am on it," they heard Ziva's voice through their earwigs.

"I'm on your six," DiNozzo snapped.

When the rest of their people arrived, Gibbs stood, holding his hands up. Tim felt his heart jump into his throat and choked on it with fear as his lover faced the gunman who had already shot him.

"You're surrounded. Time to put your gun down."

McGee moved up to where Gibbs had been and peeked around the edge of the dumpster. He watched for any sign that the suspect was going to shoot, ready to sweep Gibbs' feet from under him and bring him down and out of the line of fire in an instant. Part of his mind calculated if he would be doing the same thing if it were Ziva or Tony, and he relaxed a bit at the resounding affirmative.

The two men were arguing, and after a few heated exchanges, the man with the briefcase dropped the bag and made a run for it.

Two of the CGIS guys brought him down in a moment, and the teenager's head whipped back and forth between Gibbs and the activity of the briefcase man being cuffed and dragged away.

"It's over. Put. The gun. _Down_ ," Gibbs said quietly.

Bending to Gibbs' interminable will, tears streaming down his face, the boy did as he was told. Tim rushed over, followed quickly by Borin, and the young man was handcuffed and marched to a waiting car.

Gibbs was aware of the glaring disapproval emanating from McGee for the rest of the day. He fully expected an earful at home that night but was surprised and suspicious when he arrived to find instead a candlelit dinner. Tim's quietly loving manner, along with three glasses of wine and two fingers of bourbon lulled him. Maybe the younger man had figured out and accepted why he'd risked himself to take the teenager in safely. He didn't think that was the case, and he continued to wait for the explosion and acrimony, maybe tears, followed (hopefully) by fantastic makeup sex. But this was a very different person he was with, and though all his wives had been intelligent, none had been geniuses.

After they ate and sat through a fire dying to embers in the fireplace, Tim drew Gibbs upstairs and slowly made love to him, keeping in control of the encounter himself while he sucked Gibbs to aching hardness, then prepared himself and spent half an hour riding his cock, letting Gibbs caress his skin but not take charge until the end. Gibbs eventually rolled them over and sped up, kissing Tim hard and pounding into him even harder until they both came, sweating and gasping and thoroughly spent.

"Our jobs are dangerous," Tim said softly, still breathing hard, his long legs wrapped around Gibbs, the weight of the older man pressing him into the mattress. "I can't ask you not to take risks. Any hesitation, thinking about how a worst case scenario might impact me, or us, could get you killed." Gibbs raised himself onto his arms and looked down at his lover uncertainly, studying the open, completely vulnerable look in Tim's eyes. "I know that you would die for me. It's part of being a team who are as close as we all are. I know that you would kill to keep me safe, too. I just have one thing I don't know for sure, and I _need_ to know."

Gibbs swallowed hard, waiting.

"Would you live for me? Am _I,_ are _we_ , worth living for?" There were tears in Tim's big blue-green eyes, and Gibbs felt his chest contract.

Heart thundering in his chest, Gibbs kissed him, pouring the heartbreakingly sweet truth into it. When he finally broke it, he rested his forehead against Tim's, his eyes closed to hide the moisture he'd felt gathering in them.

"You're worth _everything_ , Tim. I will do all I can to stay alive for you; for _us_ ," he replied in a husky whisper.

"Good," Tim sighed in relief. "I will, too."

~~~NCIS~~~

Zach Simpson, the boy who had fired the gun at Gibbs, was a Navy dependent. He'd dropped out of school and run away six months ago, and when Gibbs questioned him, he spilled it all. He'd struggled to find jobs after he hitch-hiked from Pensacola to Virginia, and had begun working on a fishing boat for a less than reputable man who seemed to make a lot more money than he should have with the amount of fish the boat brought in. When the captain of the boat discovered that Zach had an ID card which would allow him access to the bases in the area, he'd quickly found several new customers he could sell the drugs he brought in from clandestine off-shore meetings with a Columbian supplier. Zach had been delivering drugs to dealers on three different bases and returning with cash for the last month and a half. He told them the name of his boat and identified the crew as well as everyone involved on the military end. Gibbs found him to be basically a good kid who was drowning in a bad situation he hadn't known how to get out of. Zach's parents were on their way up from Florida, and with his cooperation as well as being a minor, Gibbs was confident he'd get parole he could serve back home.

Borin and Gibbs stood aside as the crew members were taken into custody by both the Coast Guard team as well as DiNozzo, McGee, and Ziva, wrapping up NCIS' involvement in the case. She spoke quietly.

"I didn't expect it of you, Gibbs, but you two seem good together," she offered.

Gibbs didn't respond, and Borin smiled a little. "I'm glad I got to reunite your boy with his other Jethro for a while. They both seemed to enjoy seeing each other again."

Any hopes Gibbs' had had that Borin was merely baiting him or was mistaken about who he was seeing were dashed. He turned his head and gave her a level stare. At the look, Borin's smile spread into a grin. She took a drink of her coffee and nodded to him.

"Enough said," she quirked her eyebrows, and with a nod and a tip of her paper cup saluting Gibbs, she moved to talk with her senior field agent.

Tim had a scheduled a girl's night with Ziva, and Gibbs found himself restless at home. He ended up at Ducky's house, needing to talk, and the ME was the only person who knew about the relationship with Tim.

"Jethro! This is a surprise! Come in, please," Ducky's jovial response to his appearance brought Gibbs' half-smile and head shake.

They settled in Ducky's living room with drinks

"I can guess what it is that has brought you here. Was Timothy quite upset with you for getting shot?"

"Actually, Duck, he was...well, yeah, I could tell he was pissed, but he didn't... He's not confrontational. It was weird."

Ducky tilted his head. "The other people you've been with, your ex-wives in particular, have been quite volatile. Do you miss it?"

"Miss...?"

"The fighting. And more pleasurably, the making up," Ducky nodded, smiling appreciatively.

"That's the thing. I feel like I should. Miss the arguing, the...well, the bitchiness. But that's not _Tim_. The only time he reacted bad was when I was _really_ a bastard to him. And even then he was bitter and sarcastic for about two minutes before he forgave me. He's the sweetest kid, Duck..."

"He's not a child, Jethro. He is a very sensitive, loving person who doesn't thrive on conflict as your ladies did. Do you _miss_ that conflict?"

Gibbs slowly shook his head. "It feels like I've been waiting my whole life for someone who just takes me as I am, accepts it, and loves me. That's Tim."

The doctor's heart warmed at the softly spoken statement. He knew Gibbs had enjoyed the feisty people he'd dated and married, but that had always seemed to hold a temporary appeal for his friend, and the women at least had eventually tired of the frustration of continuous struggle. The two men Jethro had dated since Ducky had known him had been too much like Gibbs himself, and Gibbs had ended it both times, unable to tolerate the level of escalation their fights had risen to. Fisticuffs with one's partner was an unacceptable thing for Gibbs.

"I've never seen you like this, my friend. Tell me, is that how you felt with Shannon?" Ducky's curiosity overcame his caution at mentioning Gibbs' beloved first wife.

"I don't know. It was so long ago, and I know I've whitewashed it. We fought. We made up," he shrugged. "But we had Kelly. We were a family, plus, I was young, and deployed for months on end... It's different, Ducky."

Shocked at the honesty and the implications of the response, Ducky was also pleased. He had worried for young McGee when the relationship had become romantic, but he'd watched them both carefully and had been guardedly optimistic about the situation. Timothy's introspective nature seemed to be bringing the trait out in Jethro, and from Ducky's perspective, that could only be a good thing for his old friend.

~~~NCIS~~~

That night when Tim and Gibbs lay in bed, Tim snuggled against his side and rested his head on his chest, sliding his fingers around and around on Gibbs' belly.

"Borin was watching me through the whole investigation. I've never been so glad to have a joint operation done with."

"She made us."

"Oh, _shit_! Really? Do you think - "

"It's fine. She liked how happy it made you to see Jethro again."

Tim let Gibbs' judgment soothe his fears and he relaxed.

"I like her. She's so much like _you_."

Gibbs tightened his arm around Tim. "You belong to me," he grunted, feeling Tim's grin at the jealous comment.

"Yes. I do. Have since Norfolk; that day you called me Michael Jackson for wearing a mask for the chemical spill at the crime scene. God, you were hot..."

Gibbs chuckled. "You were so young."

Tim hesitated. He had a question which he'd been burning to ask, but he hadn't been sure he wanted the answer. Feeling safe and loved in his bed with Gibbs uninhibited under him, he decided it was time.

"So... Rule 12? Where does that leave us?" He held his breath and waited for the response.

"Rule 51 kinda trumps everything," Gibbs replied serenely.

Tim thought hard. " _51_?"

"Sometimes you're wrong."

"Wow. I didn't think you ever second-guessed yourself."

"I'm human, Tim."

"So you're not from Krypton?"

Gibbs barked a laugh and just pulled Tim closer.

~~~NCIS~~~

"You are so damn sexy when you dance," Gibbs commented. McGee looked over in surprise from where he'd been bopping to the song in his head while he wiped down the counter. He was meticulous about keeping Gibbs' kitchen clean when he cooked there.

"Um, thanks?"

Gibbs smiled at the response and came close for a hug and a lingering kiss. "Yes, it was a compliment. And I was thinkin' that maybe, some night..."

Tim blushed. "Oh my god, _really_? Dance for you...like _that_?"

"Just dance. But here at home, so I can interrupt when I'm tired of watching."

McGee bit his lip. "Do you think you'd ever...dance with me?"

"No that crazy ass-shaking, but maybe a nice slow dance, or a two-step...sure."

Tim beamed. He filed the two-step idea away for future reference.

It wasn't until the following weekend that he got the chance to give Gibbs what he asked for. They were at the apartment, in Tim's safe, favorite place; his bedroom, and he shyly got Gibbs settled sitting up in bed, then put a particular playlist on.

He'd decided that Sister Hazel was a band Gibbs might actually enjoy with their almost country sound, and the perfect song for he and Gibbs was 'Sail Away', so that was first up. He turned the lights down and moved to the infectious beat, swinging his hips.

Gibbs grinned when he realized what Tim was doing and sat back to enjoy the show. He honestly tried to watch his lover's whole body, but his eyes returned again and again to his gorgeous ass.

One of Tim's favorite songs to dance to was next up: 'Extreme Ways' by Moby. A wider stance, more emphasis on his hips thrusting forward made this a different kind of dance. Then he started to bop with his shoulders to 'Rescue Me', the song Gibbs had enjoyed watching him dance to in his kitchen. A peek at Gibbs' expression and he suppressed a grin. _Right on schedule_. 'Take My Breath Away', the slow, sensuous Top Gun love theme had Tim changing his movements and Gibbs suddenly climbing off the bed and wrapping his arms around Tim and kissing him breathless. They swayed in time to the music until the song ended, then Gibbs laid him down. The rest of the playlist, more than an hour's worth of music, knowing Gibbs, was just good background for sex. A lot of his soft jazz, a few lovesongs, even some classic Barry White was mixed in, but it did its work and was barely noticable as they made love slowly and thoroughly.

Laying together, spent and sated, Tim lightly ran his fingers up and down Gibbs' sides and watched as his lover's eyes drifted shut at the feeling. A surge of protectiveness startled the younger man, and he pulled Gibbs close against his chest, resting his cheek on top of the silver hair.

Gibbs settled in the position he'd been drawn into. He sensed the shift in Tim's mood and wondered if this was the time he'd speak. Gibbs was patient, not ever prying into the deeply personal struggle his lover was engaged in. Early on, he had spoken with Ducky about gender identity and was awed that Tim was self-aware enough to plumb the depths of his soul to find answers about who he was. He had no idea how to help but had attempted to prepare himself to be supportive of Tim in every way he could.

"Gibbs," Tim said softly.

"Yeah."

"I want to ask you something...but I'm afraid how you might take it."

Gibbs drew back and looked up into Tim's eyes. "You can ask me anything, Tim."

"Well it's just...the way we...um," Tim looked away, his face flushed. Gibbs waited. "When we have sex, um, you're always, uh..."

"Top?"

"Yeah. Is that, um, like, a hard and fast rule?" Tim finally stumbled through expressing his concern.

"I don't know, Tim. I only ever bottomed once... It wasn't pleasant, but that might have been inexperience. Is that what you want?"

"I'm not sure... Yes? Sometime?"

Looking deeply into Tim's eyes, Gibbs read every feeling passing through his lover. Hope and fear, shame and uncertainty, need and loneliness. Gibbs found himself nodding without conscious choice.

"We can try."

The relief and jubilation in Tim's beautiful eyes was worth everything.

~~~NCIS~~~

Gibbs said he liked surprises. It had been several months since they'd become lovers, and Tim finally felt confident enough to try to give him one. He researched and found a gay country bar with one night a week when they taught line-dancing and two-step. Keeping his fingers crossed all week that they wouldn't catch a case which would keep them working for days straight, Tim made his plans and was excited when they wrapped up a larceny case the afternoon of his chosen evening.

Gibbs knew Tim was up to something. He'd been bubbly at home, and even at work had been sneaking sly looks at him all week. But he was a patient man, and he waited to see what the younger man was up to.

After a silent agreement that they'd go to the house after work, Tim hurried home to change into his deep purple western-style shirt, turquoise bolo tie, tight jeans, and boots, then drove to Gibbs' place with nervous butterflies in his stomach. A quick look and listen inside showed Tim that Gibbs was in the basement, so he raced upstairs and laid an outfit on the bed. The black, long-sleeved button down shirt Gibbs had worn that first night they were together was one of Tim's favorites, and he paired it with blue-jeans; a faded, well-worn pair, and Gibbs' work boots, since he didn't have any cowboy boots. Then he went down and called Gibbs up from the basement.

Gibbs' lips twitched in a smile when he saw how Tim was dressed. God, he was beautiful. That royal purple color the younger man loved so much was just spectacular with his light skin and pale eyes.

Tim bit his lip at the look he was getting, then pointed to the stairs. "Get cleaned up and wear what I laid out for you."

"Yes, Boss," Gibbs teased, winking, then went to obey.

Dinner at Alfonso's for steaks went well, then Tim drove them to the bar and the evening went better than he'd even imagined. Gibbs laughed and relaxed and led Tim as he learned the two-step. They grinned at each other's mistakes as they line danced, and Tim got a handsome cowboy to take their picture. It marked a wonderful night out together, and Tim cherished the memory and the photo. He and Gibbs looked great together; happy and in love, and they agreed that the picture deserved to be framed.

"It would look great with one of those barn-wood frames," Tim enthused in the car on the way home.

"I can make it, if you want," Gibbs offered. Tim beamed.

While Gibbs was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Tim practiced a few steps, trying to commit them to memory. He loved his free-form dancing at Verse, getting so lost completely in the music so that all was left was his essential self, but this was different; a way to share some of that with his lover.

Coming into the bedroom, Gibbs watched as Tim danced in nothing but his underwear for a minute. His long limbs moved gracefully, and play of his muscles under his skin made Gibbs' hands twitch, wanting to touch him. He finally moved up behind Tim, putting his arms around his waist and his chin on his shoulder, continuing to match the steps until Tim turned in his arms and started kissing him. They quickly ende up on the bed, naked, rolling across the sheets, taking turns as aggressor. When Gibbs took Tim it was passionate, and their voices rose in concert at the end.

Sprawled across McGee's back, Gibbs kissed the smooth skin across his shoulders and neck while they caught their breath. He hummed in pleasure, knowing in his deepest self that he could be totally content with this person for the rest of his life. He couldn't keep from smiling as they cleaned up and went to sleep in each other's arms.

~~~NCIS~~~

The following morning, Tim got up early so he could run home before work.

"I'm tired of this. Why don't you bring your clothes so you can stay during the week?" Gibbs said as they hugged at the door. Tim froze, and Gibbs' gut clenched.

McGee swallowed hard. He'd been dreading this conversation, hadn't been able to think how he could possibly explain how he felt in a way that wouldn't hurt his lover and possibly damage their relationship. He still felt he needed his own space to work through his gender confusion, but he didn't know how to make Gibbs understand that.

"I can bring some clothes," he said slowly, "and I like the idea of staying here sometimes during the week, but..." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to live together."

Gibbs' jaw tightened. He felt as if Tim had slapped him, and he didn't like the anger he felt welling in his chest.

"Drive safe," Gibbs said stiffly, releasing Tim and reaching for the door. McGee put his hand in the glass to keep it closed. Gibbs shrugged, his eyes flashing, and he walked away, heading back toward the kitchen.

"Wait - no - _Gibbs_!" Tim followed him and took him by the shoulders, turning him back so they stood face to face. He swallowed hard at the anger he found in Gibbs' eyes, but he knew it was covering hurt, so he plowed on. "I _love_ waking up next to you. I want us to go home together and spend all our free time in the same place, but... Not _now_. Not _yet_. I'm trying so hard to figure this out, to really understand who I am... Please. _Please_ , Gibbs, give me time? I don't want to lose you, but this is _so_ important to me, and I want you to be part of it but I have to accept myself first!"

Gibbs' gave him a flat look, but Tim had learned to read past the stone face. He was hurt, but his stubborn pride kept him silent. Tim cupped his face. "I love you. Gibbs, you _know_ that I do. I have to have time, _on my own_ , to work through this. After that..." He gave a half-smile. "I'd even marry you."

Gibbs snorted derisively, but McGee thought he could make out a flicker in the hard gaze.

"I'll see you at work, Tim."

McGee nodded, and with a light caress of Gibbs face, he turned and left. Walking out to his car, his knees wobbled, and he cried as he drove home. He didn't want to hurt Gibbs. He felt awful knowing he had, and through the day, he was haunted by the hooded pain in Gibbs' beautiful eyes.

~~~NCIS~~~


	7. Chapter Six: Out is Through

Out Is Through

Since Gibbs and Tim had been together, Gibbs had been pushing for more gym time for the team, especially more hand to hand training for McGee. Silently understanding that Gibbs was worried about losing Tim and actually feeling pretty good about those reasons for it, Tim didn't complain much. He griped enough to satisfy DiNozzo that they were in agreement that it sucked to consistently be schooled by Ziva, but he otherwise just tried to learn all he could.

Gibbs was called out of town on a classified case. McGee had been able to tell from the look in Gibbs' eyes that it wasn't a combat assignment, but more likely an interrogation. Vance let the team off early one day and Tim decided to hit the gym solo. It was hard to tell if he was actually any good with his hand to hand when he nearly always lost to his more-experienced teammates in training, so he thought he'd try to find a sparring partner.

Never having gone to the gym at headquarters without his team, McGee had no idea that he was walking into an unofficial 'members only' situation. None of the aquaintances he'd gotten to know through his years in the office were there. He asked around for someone to spar with, but everyone claimed they had a partner. He offered to take on two at once and received a dark laugh and comments about no one there wanting a menage á toi. Not only would no one spar with him, when he moved toward machines he was subtly cut off from them. He got the point and left after half an hour, frustrated and feeling alienated.

A thought occurred to McGee that sent him spiralling: this gender identity he was getting comfortable with put him even more firmly into the 'outsider' category than he already was. He had never felt as if he fit in; geek field agent, unaccepted as one of the guys in cyber but instead near hero-worshipped; occasionally still looked down on by the more militant field agents; closet bi-sexual, and now non-binary gender... He wondered if he'd ever find a public part of his life where he'd be comfortable just being himself.

He moved through the work week feeling like an alien observer. Tony joked and teased and received head-slaps or smiles. Abby, the person who seemed to be the furthest from normal but was nearly universally loved for it made him even sadder, knowing that if _he_ ever moved in the direction of flaunting his abnormality _he_ would instead be ridiculed and further isolated. Ziva seemed to be her normal work self, which was professional to the point of seeming cold, and McGee actively avoided Gibbs when he returned from his assignment, totally uncertain if he would receive the well deserved head-slap for allowing personal problems to interfere with work, or sympathy, which would completely shatter his ability to function. They were still trying to figure out how they could walk this tightrope of personal relationship vs business and he didn't dare stress it for fear of losing either or both.

By Thursday they had put a case from the previous week to bed, and Abby called to remind him he'd agreed months ago to go to a concert with her. He tried to duck out, wanting a quiet night at home to try to work through the way he was feeling by doing some of the exercises from one of his books, but she insisted, at least offering to drive. She'd come by at 7 and help him pick out appropriate clothing. He sighed and agreed. He commented on his plans to the squad room in general, and got a subtle nod from Gibbs that he understood.

Tim grew a little excited at the thought of showing his new decor to his friend, but when Abby walked into his redecorated bedroom, he was shocked by her response.

" _Oh my god_ , McGee, did you let some woman re-do your bedroom?!" She exclaimed, seemingly taking an instant dislike to the room he felt best expressed his innermost self. He felt like she'd punched him.

" _What_? No...I... Don't you like it?" He asked, hoping he'd misinterpreted her response.

"It's beautiful, but it just doesn't help at all with your Alpha male goals, Timmy. Just...look, if you hook up tonight, go back to her place, not here. We'll deal with this later. Now, where's that black shirt I gave you?"

Tim allowed Abby to dress him as he sank even further into the loneliness he'd been battling. The concert was alright, but he made an excuse of a headache to Abby and got a cab home during the last set.

Standing at the foot of his bed, he looked at the deep purple pillows fronted by the smaller turquoise ones, on top of the purple and black comforter he'd adored, and fought back tears. He threw the pillows off the bed onto the floor and crawled under the sheets miserably.

Friday was a blur of catching up on boring paperwork and he barely spoke to anyone before he headed home. He turned the ringer off on his home phone and booted up his gaming computer, losing himself in the old familiarity of an MMO.

~~~NCIS~~~

"Damnit, Tim! What's goin' on?" Gibbs demanded, pushing into the apartment.

"Gosh, _hi_ Gibbs, why don't you come on in?" McGee snapped sarcastically. He closed the front door and stood facing it, rolling his eyes, his shoulders slumped. He gasped when a grip on his arm jerked him around, and he pulled away, stepping backward until he hit the door, retreating from the angry countenance of his lover. He looked down, unable to meet the famous blue steel of Gibbs' gaze.

"Why won't you talk to me?" Gibbs asked, his voice angry but with an underlying hurt that wrenched Tim's heart. "Look at me, _goddamnit_!" Gibbs's palm slammed into the door beside his head and Tim flinched and he ducked down and squirmed past Gibbs, retreating again, an unbearable sensitivity making it impossible to stand and face Gibbs' volume, his anger, his pain. But Gibbs was a bulldog and he cornered McGee next to the door to the bedroom. Tears had started, and when he looked at Gibbs through his wet lashes, he felt burned by the gaze studying him.

" _Please_ ," Tim whimpered. Gibbs stepped back a pace at the sound. McGee took a shuddering breath. He could hear the harsh sound of Gibbs' breathing and flinched a little.

"Tim, what is it? What's wrong?" Gibbs spoke softly and Tim relaxed fractionally.

"I don't...I can't talk about it," he sighed. Explaining how confused and isolated he felt was too complicated a conversation when he was as tired and raw-feeling as he was.

"Why? Is someone forcing you? You know I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Oh, Gibbs...it's nothing like that. It's just...it's too hard and I'm too tired. Please, will you just _go_?"

"No."

Tim wept at the response and sagged down to the floor, putting his head on his knees. Feeling utterly alone while the man of his dreams stood waiting was devastating. His tears felt like fire as they slid down his cheeks, his frustration and helplessness overflowing. Gibbs moved closer, standing so close Tim could feel the heat of him.

"You don't have to talk, but I'm not leaving you alone right now."

McGee let the tears go, crying quietly in despair for several minutes before the shudders stopped and he sat dejectedly boneless.

Gibbs had no idea how to fix this. McGee had seemed fine if a bit withdrawn at work the last week, then he hadn't answered his home phone Friday night or Saturday morning or afternoon. Gibbs didn't want to call his work cell because that truly had to be for call outs only, so he'd come. Finding a lost and sad young man had confused him and annoyed him: _what kind of game was he playing_? But now he saw his lover deeply depressed and forced himself to acknowledge that McGee wasn't like any of his exes. He wasn't playing a game, he was in trouble, and Gibbs' outburst hadn't helped. But he'd be damned if he'd leave the person he loved crying in a corner. He reached down and gently pulled Tim to his feet, then helped him into his bedroom. Gibbs was surprised to see the bedding Tim loved so much was in disarray, the beautiful new pillows scattered on the floor, the bed unmade. Pulling off the sweats Tim wore, Gibbs pushed his limp and pliant lover down and covered him. When he started to go to sit in the chair to watch over him, Tim made a small sound of protest, and Gibbs eagerly responded to the bare hint. Stripping down to boxers and a t-shirt, he climbed in beside McGee and pulled him close. Gibbs felt him begin to cry again, and soothed him, stroking his back, then felt him relax and fall to sleep. He had never truly understood the frustration of loving someone who wouldn't talk about it when something was wrong until this night. It sucked, and he resolved to be more open with Tim than he had been with his exes. Maybe even more than he had been with Shannon. They'd both been so young, and he'd always tried to be her strong hero, no matter how he felt inside. Maybe he should follow Tim's example and try to be more true to himself, whoever that really was now.

Gibbs spent hours beginning his own self-exploration. The uncertainty of what was real and what was habit-turned-armor felt like looking in a funhouse mirror, and he wasn't attempting anything like the personal reinvention Tim was struggling with. He sighed and pushed his own questioning to the back of his mind, choosing that he was going to focus on supporting this amazing person he held in his arms. He fell asleep making plans.

Sunday morning, Gibbs woke and watched his lover. When Tim's eyes finally opened, he saw the beautiful blue of Gibbs' eyes and smiled a tiny smile.

"You stayed," McGee said, wonder in his voice. Gibbs touched his cheek.

"Of course I stayed."

Recollection of what had happened the night before returned to Tim and Gibbs watched the stress lines start and the clouding of his eyes with whatever pain or trouble he had and he shook his head firmly.

"Uh-uh. Don't sink back down there. I won't let you," Gibbs leaned forward and began kissing Tim demandingly. Peeking at Tim's expression through slitted eyes, he smiled against his mouth when he saw the frown lines had vanished.

Focusing on giving McGee as much pleasure as possible, he worked every hot spot he'd found thus far in their relationship and discovered a new one under Tim's arm. Nibbling it through the undershirt he'd worn to bed, Gibbs had the younger man panting and tossing his head, and when he reached for his boxers, the front nearly wet with pre-come, Tim cried out when he brushed across the front of them.

" _Oh god_ , Gibbs, Gibbs! Fuck, I'm close, so close..."

Gibbs groaned. When Tim was this hot it was hard to contain himself. He'd proved numerous times that Tim could be multi-orgasmic, so he mentally shrugged and moved down, mouthing him through the thin cotton, caressing his balls with one hand while he reached up and tweaked a nipple with the other.

" _Aaahh_!" Tim's hips thrust up as he came, soaking his underwear. He collapsed back, gasping and shaking, and Gibbs took advantage of the post-orgasmic lassitude to strip both of them bare. He grabbed the lube off the nightstand to have it close to hand and settled, pressing his body against his lover's. He slowly moved his hips, stimulating his hard-on against Tim's outer thigh.

The evidence of Gibbs' need finally registered in Tim's mind and he turned his head to look at him. He moaned at the hungry look he got, and again when Gibbs leaned in and started kissing him. Rolling over to face Gibbs, he moved into his arms and gave himself up once again to how his lover made him feel. Nothing else mattered with Gibbs' tongue in his mouth, his hands on his ass, their pelvises grinding together. Then Gibbs was on top of him, sliding into him, and Tim was in raptures. He could feel every hair where it brushed his skin, could hear the slick sounds their bodies made, as well as Gibbs' even breath, and the pressure within him as he was filled time and again was an exquisite torment, simply overwhelming pleasure.

Gibbs moved deliberately, setting a slow pace. Tim was in another realm, tossing his head restlessly, moaning gibberish, and he was as beautiful as Gibbs had ever seen him. Knowing that the younger man was out of his mind with pleasure and was unlikely to register anything he said freed him, and he spoke, saying all the things he'd wanted to from the very beginning.

"Tim, you mean everything to me. When we're like this, I want to just freeze the moment and keep it safe forever. I want _you_ safe, _forever_. I'm more at peace with you than I ever have been. You're _so_ brave, _so_ perfect... Oh, Tim... You joke that I'm superman, but _you_ impress the hell out of me. I don't know what you see in this old dog, but I _hope_ you keep seeing it, because you're _mine_. I told you that you belong to me, all those years ago, but what I really meant was that I'm yours. Tim, I'm _yours_. I am _always_ here for anything you need, anything you want. I'll never leave you. I'll try to never hurt you, Tim.. My Tim..." Gibbs went on and on, speaking as he never had, moving his body, bringing them closer and closer.

As he felt Gibbs increasing his pace and his own climax approaching, Tim heard what was being said to him. His clever mind catalogued it, but it was his heart that absorbed all of the sentiment and answered. As he felt his body tighten, he looked up at his lover and let his feelings pour out of him in a long stream of "I love you-I loveyou-Iloveyou-Iloveyou _Iloveyou_ -"

They both came, shouting, and Gibbs dropped down on McGee, panting, emotions causing his eyes to well with tears he blinked back. He shifted over and they held each other.

When their breathing slowed, Tim drew back, reclining against his pillow. He sighed and began at least a partial confession.

"I've been feeling really low. I didn't want to drag you down; you have too many of your own demons, so I've been feeling totally alone, even when I'm with people. Even when I'm with you."

Gibbs frowned. "Don't isolate yourself. Not from me. Not _ever_."

Tim rested his chin on the back of his hand and looked up at Gibbs. "I don't want to hurt you, and I know I have, not wanting to move in." He shook his head. "I just...I've got to work this out on my _own_. I don't want to be this fractured person anymore. I want be whole and happy and... _yours_."

"Tim, we're all flawed. We're stronger, _better_ , together, though." Gibbs paused, not wanting to sound needy, but... He _did_ need Tim, and Tim needed to know it. "I want you, I _need_ you, just as you are. Don't hide from me, I can't stand it."

Understanding and sympathy radiated from Tim's big eyes and Gibbs felt completely naked before the look. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to meet Tim's gaze, though, and slowly his discomfort faded. He'd wanted to be with Tim without the mask he'd developed over the years, and this was it. The good: the humor, the creativity and pleasure-loving, and the bad: the vulnerability, the fear, and the pain.

"I love you, Gibbs. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But I'm a _wreck_ right now, trying to figure out who the hell I am. You _can't_ want to ride this roller coaster with me..."

"That first night you said the same thing. And I'm gonna tell you that my answer hasn't changed, and it's not gonna: I want _you_ , Timothy McGee, _whoever_ that is. You're stuck with me, damnit, so get used to it."

"My god, you are stubborn, aren't you?" Tim said, lips curving a little as he shook his head. The reply was another flat look, and his smile widened. "I love you."

"Me, too, Tim," Gibbs' voice was soft, and more tender than McGee had ever heard it.

"Thank you. I heard everything you said. You... Gibbs, you mean everything to me, and I want to come to you, to _us_ , as everything I can be. You...you understand that it's not that I don't want to - "

"I get it. Last night, I saw...how deep your hurt is. I'll do anything I can to help with that. And I felt how bad it is to love someone who won't talk. I... I'm gonna talk more."

Tim's eyes widened. "Really? Man, it's worth it just for that!"

Gibbs gave him a playful head slap, then stroked his face, smiling. He moved closer and rested his head on Tim's chest, closing his eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat.

McGee's grandmother had told him that success in life should be measured by what a person had done to help others, and this seemed like a really positive thing to have done for Gibbs, even if it was only a change that happened between them. He smiled and hugged Gibbs closer.

"On the subject of talking, have you thought about telling your friends about this...fluid...androgyny...um -"

"I think I'm settling on being gender fluid, and...I've thought about telling people, but it's kind of an awkward non-sequitur, y'know?"

"You could just be direct. It might help you to have other people you don't have to hide from."

McGee nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. Ziva has really become like a sister to me; not a bratty little sis like Sarah can be, but an equal. I'll do it. I'll tell her. Thank you for encouraging me."

Gibbs found his heart warmed by being able to help Tim in any way he could, and the day they spent together was one of the best they'd shared yet.

~~~NCIS~~~

A callout for a sailor's body found downtown at 11 pm on a rainy Saturday meant a cold night ahead, and Tim and Gibbs reminded each other to dress appropriately before they took their separate cars to the scene.

Photographing the alley, body, and all possible clues kept McGee busy while Tony, wearing a designer shirt and jeans under his NCIS jacket and hat, having been pulled away from his evening clubbing, sketched; while Ziva and Gibbs talked to witnesses. Tim kept getting distracted by Gibbs. He'd taken his hat off and the lights sparkled on his hair like jewels. He looked so beautiful, crowned as he was, and Tim had to restrain himself from taking pictures for his personal use.

Back in the squad room at 2 am, Gibbs finally took McGee down to Autopsy with him to have a moment alone.

"You gotta stop looking at me like that, _McGee_ ," he said softly, emphasizing that he was using Tim's last name. Tim bit his lip and Gibbs shuddered at the sight. He hit the emergency stop and pushed his agent up against the side of the elevator, pressing his body against Tim's. He brushed his nose against Tim's, breathing the soft breath of his lover, eyes burning as they raked his face. "You're making this really tough, babe."

A cheeky little smile crept over Tim's lips, and the tip of his tongue swept his lower lip. Gibbs' jaw clenched and he shook his head. He kissed him, hard, and ground his hips against Tim's, then stepped away and gave him a light head-slap. " _Not. At. Work_." Gibbs growled. " _McGee_."

Tim shrugged a little, straightening his shirt, and he stood upright. There was no way the periodic table was going to help him get his erection under control in the time it took for the elevator to move the last dozen feet down to Autopsy. He cleared his throat. "Right. _Boss_. But, um," he stammered and Gibbs gave him a sideways look. "I'm gonna need a minute." The sharp blue eyes travelled down below Tim's belt and he shook his head, trying not to grin as he flipped the switch. When the doors opened, he turned his head and spoke.

"Go to the lab make sure Abby is on her way in."

" _Thank you_ ," McGee muttered reverently, already reciting the table in his mind. Forward, then backward should do it, he thought.

The smile remained on Gibbs' face as he the doors hissed open before him.

"Whatcha got, Duck?"

~~~NCIS~~~

Ziva didn't react the way Tim expected. She asked questions in a very neutral tone, but had then become withdrawn. She made excuses when he asked about it, and that was so unlike her that he grew quiet as well. They finished eating the meal they'd prepared and he excused himself and went home earlier than he ever had.

He wanted to call Gibbs, to pour the hurt he felt out onto the tremendous strength of his lover, but he felt such a heaviness in his body, he couldn't find the energy to lift the phone. He desperately hoped he hadn't ruined the beautiful friendship he had developed with Ziva in the last few months. He got out the book with the gender identity exercises but found his heart wasn't in it.

He morosely poured a glass of wine and drank it before he went to bed, fitful through the whole night.

~~~NCIS~~~

McGee snickered at the sound Tony's breath made whooshing out as Ziva once again knocked his feet from under him and he fell hard on the mat. She was teaching them a different takedown today, and Tim had already had his turn, several times.

"Now you two try it, slowly, and I will correct your movements until you can go at full speed," Ziva said. DiNozzo climbed to his feet again and Tim approached him on the mat. "Tony, you will perform the maneuver. McGee, move as if to attack him with a knife."

When Tony had finally succeeded, having found the move unnatural and awkward for him, it was Tim's turn, and he found all the training and dancing he'd been doing had helped when he moved up to speed faster than DiNozzo had. He couldn't help the satisfied smile as they headed to the showers, and he failed to see how frustrated Tony was after being schooled.

Tim was humming as he applied a spray of body scent before he put on his favorite purple shirt.

"Geez, what is that? _Perfume_?" DiNozzo sniped. McGee stopped humming as felt his stomach drop but tried to hold his upbeat mood by ignoring the comment. He tucked his shirt in and fastened his belt quickly, trying to finish and get out of the locker room.

Tony was having a bad day already, so, in typical DiNozzo fashion, he was spreading the vitriol around. He blocked McGee as the younger man started for the door.

"So what's the new scent, Probie?"

"'Eau My'," Tim replied, looking him straight in the eye.

"The George Takai cologne? Hate to tell ya, but those him or her scents are _really_ just perfumes with a unisex label. Not manly."

"Well, Tony, I disagree," McGee said carefully. He'd finally noticed the edge that Tony's voice held. He didn't often hear it anymore, but Tony sounded mean.

"C'mon, it's designed by a flaming homosexual. What do you expect, McSulu?"

Tim grit his teeth but didn't call Tony out on insulting 'Uncle George'. He had to pick his battles.

"Get out of my way, DiNozzo."

"Not until you admit you're wearing perfume."

Tim tried to sidestep around him and they scuffled just a bit before Tim decided he'd had enough. He stiffened his fingers and hit a nerve point, making the senior agent gasp and curl toward the impact.

"Yeah, okay. I was out of line," DiNozzo groaned. He straightened painfully and held his hand up in the Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper, McGeek."

McGee turned at the door and glared at him. "Spock is the Vulcan, Tony. Sulu is human. And don't tuck your thumb into your palm."

They grumbled at each other for the next few hours as they did desk work before subsiding into cold silence when Gibbs arrived. McGee was happy to be sent to Abby's lab to help her with a decryption late in the afternoon as the atmosphere in the squad room had been awkward and too quiet.

Tim complained about the perfume comment to Abby as they worked, but she only pointed out that this particular scent was more feminine than a lot of unisex colognes, and coupling that with his choice of shirt color, he was giving off a less than macho vibe.

"Abby will you just _stop_?!" Tim nearly exploded. The woman did stop, everything: stopped moving, working, even breathing. She stared at McGee with total shock.

"Stop _what_ McGee?"

" _Pushing_! You're always pushing me to be more masculine, butch up, quit acting like a little girl; it's like being with my _father_!" He snapped. After everything that had happened, to come to his best friend for solace and get more of the same was too much.

"Oh my god, Timmy, that's just mean! I'm trying to help you." She looked like he'd kicked her dog.

"Maybe I don't need help! Maybe there's nothing _wrong_ with me, Abby! I know for sure that you constantly harping that I'm not _manly_ enough does _nothing_ but make me feel like crap, okay? So will you just _stop_ already?"

She frowned deeply and came right up into his face. Her voice was low and dangerous, and as she spoke his eyes grew wider and wider even as hers narrowed to slits. "I'm trying to help you be who _you_ want to be. _Years_ ago you told me you wished you were more masculine. You said you wanted to be like Gibbs and Tony. You even said you loved the Alpha Male self-help seminars I gave you. And now you're yelling at me and being mean because I care enough to want for _you_ what you want for _yourself_? WTF, McGee?"

He swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of it that way. In the conversations they'd had all those years ago, when he'd confessed to feeling less than his male teammates and she'd offered to help, he had accepted; thanked her! And now he was throwing it in her face, being completely unfair to this person who loved him enough to want for him what he wanted for himself. She'd be his greatest champion if he'd just talk to her...

"I messed up, Abs. I've been going through stuff and I should have talked to you. I - " He paused, thinking about how he'd expressed it to Gibbs. Abby had the vocabulary and was hip to everything in the alternative lifestyle scene, so he could say it differently to her. "I'm gender fluid. There are rare times when I feel really masculine, but there are a lot of times I feel very feminine, and I'm finally seeing that and acknowledging that it's _okay_. I can just be Timothy McGee, _whoever_ that is, however that feels, and it's completely fine. I've been working to get comfortable like this, and I should have told _you_ , my best friend, and I didn't. I avoided you and I sulked when you told me not to wear pastels, and I got so _hurt_ when you hated my bedroom and - "

"I love your bedroom! _Timmy_ , oh, Timmy," she threw her arms around him and hugged him with one of her amazing full-body hugs.

He returned the hug and let a few tears fall onto her labcoat-covered shoulder. "I'm sorry, Abby."

"You _should_ be! I'm your best friend! You can tell me anything," she admonished, which made guilt over not telling her about his relationship with Gibbs well up. That would have to wait until he and Gibbs had discussed it, however.

"Hey, can we go shopping? Can I give you a makeover? I know this great place for large sized heels - "

"No, Abby! No-no-no," Tim shook his head. "It's not like that. I don't want to cross-dress. This is about getting comfortable with how I feel inside, not how I express it."

She looked crestfallen. But in true Abby form, she bounced back quickly. "Probably for the best. I've always wanted to have a guy wear a black garter belt and stockings to bed. I might have had to jump you, McGee."

And after all the years they'd known each other, Tim still was uncertain if she was kidding or not. But it did make him wonder if Gibbs would enjoy seeing him in anything special... Maybe just a thong or a speedo? A satin ribbon tied to his -

The computer dinged to announce the success of their latest decryption program, and they excitedly turned back to work, McGee feeling more relaxed than he had all week.

~~~NCIS~~~


	8. Chapter Seven: This is Me

This is Me

Gibbs led his two male agents into the Interrogation room, silently pointing out the mess that had been left the morning before when they'd tag-teamed the suspect and gotten a confession. They were bickering, and Gibbs was struggling not to slap them both. He was tired from the night out with Tim, and upset at how rough everything had gotten at his house. He'd seen the bruises and bite marks on McGee's pale skin, although the sweet person he was, he'd thanked Gibbs. _Thanked him_! He had to make the man exert some backbone, he could have really hurt him last night, and, like an abused dog, he'd just come crawling back for more. He needed to stand up for himself, to stop taking shit from people, like Tony -

" - junior agent, it's your responsibility, _Probie_."

"You are the _last_ person I'm gonna learn personal responsibility from, Tony!"

DiNozzo's hand darted out and gave the back of Tim's head a resounding slap, and Gibbs was moving before he could think, his coffee dropping from his hand to dump on its side and begin to glug out.

" _Don't you touch him_!" Gibbs snarled. DiNozzo looked over in surprise just in time to see Gibbs' quick approach. Next Tony knew, he was up against the wall with Gibbs' forearm ready to crush his windpipe. McGee froze at the attack. "If you touch him again, _I will kill you, you hear me_?" The low voice was chilling. Tony had heard it before and knew he was in mortal danger. There was a coldness in Gibbs' eyes that he'd never seen directed at him before.

Tim finally moved, broken from his stunned paralysis by the tone of Gibbs' voice. Suddenly he knew with total clarity that something was terribly wrong with his lover and boss. And he was the only one with any chance to do anything about it. He walked heavily toward Gibbs and DiNozzo, making sure his footfalls could be heard. He saw Tony's eyes flick toward him and Gibbs' head tilt. Very gently, he put his hand on Gibbs' waist and leaned close. He was pretty sure there was no way he could control this situation without outing their relationship, and since their careers weren't worth risking Tony's life, he focused completely on his lover.

"Gibbs, I need your help," Tim said very quietly. He saw the blue eyes blink. "Please, Gibbs, I need you." He put all his fear into the words, hearing his voice quaver. Gibbs blinked again, and finally glanced over to him, then back to DiNozzo.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs demanded.

"I'm sick, Gibbs. Please, please, can you call for help? I need help," Tim leaned a bit of his weight on Gibbs. The older man frowned.

"What? Call... Call 911, Tim. Get help. I need..." Blinking rapidly, it was obvious Gibbs was having trouble concentrating.

McGee leaned harder on Gibbs. "Please... Oh god, Gibbs, I - I don't know if I can..." He let himself slump toward Gibbs, who did as he'd hoped and turned to catch him. Tim gestured to Tony, pointing urgently at the door, and the senior agent darted out, closing it behind him. It spoke to Gibbs' confusion that he didn't seem to notice at all. Tim let himself be ragdoll-limp, forcing Gibbs to hold him.

"Let me put you down, I'll go get help," Gibbs said.

"Don't leave me, Gibbs! I think I've been drugged. Poisoned! Please, we need an ambulance," McGee said, hoping Tony or whoever might be in Observation next door would take the information the way he intended.

"What? How could you be drugged?"

"The bar...Verse," It was Tim's best guess, but saying the name of the place was a dead giveaway that they'd been in a very gender-fluid, pan-sexual place together. "Last night, at the bar." It explained the way Gibbs had been forceful nearly to the point of brutality after they'd gotten home. Tim had assumed he was just exceptionally riled by something and it had been _really_ hot, so he hadn't minded the bruises and soreness, but now he put the pieces together and guessed that Gibbs' drinks had been spiked.

McGee kept mumbling and trying to keep Gibbs with him and calm, but eventually, the older man went for the door. Finding it was locked from the outside, he flew into a rage. Tim rolled himself over and scrambled into the corner. Sober, Gibbs would never hurt him, but doped on who knew what? Tim crouched, watching, ready to dodge.

Before it came to that, DiNozzo and David led the charge into the room. Tim leapt for Gibbs, wanting to take him down without hurting him. The three of them subdued him enough for a paramedic, followed by Ducky, to get close and give him a sedative. As he weakened and began to collapse, he looked up at Tim, hurt and accusatory, and Tim's heart broke. He kissed his forehead and whispered to him. "It's gonna be alright, Gibbs. I'll stay with you. Gonna be okay." Then the blue eyes closed and they moved him to the gurney in the hall. McGee moved to accompany him, but was stopped by DiNozzo.

"Whoa, McLucy, you got some 'splainin' to do."

Tim shook him off and hurried for the elevator. "Not now, Tony." He squeezed in with the gurney, two paramedics, and Ducky.

As the elevator moved, he told the paramedics everything he could think of that might be pertinent, speaking in a low, tightly controlled voice.

"Last night we were at a club. He had a double bourbon at around 8, another around 8:30, then two more pretty quick after that. We danced, and he became very lively, which was out of character. By 9:30, he was getting very sexual and aggressive and we took a cab home, where he continued the same behavior. We had...vigorous sex, twice, and I went to sleep. When I woke up this morning, he was already up. I don't know if he slept at all. He was in a bad mood, though he wouldn't usually have a hangover after that amount of alcohol, and when agent DiNozzo got physically close to me, Gibbs snapped and attacked him. I got him to let Tony go by pretending to be ill. Was he drugged? Ducky?" He looked to the ME. "He _had_ to have been drugged," Tim finished in a rush as they made their way out to the ambulance.

"I don't know, Timothy, but we're going to find out. I'll meet you at the hospital," Dr Mallard replied, shaking his head.

In the Emergency Room of Bethesda Naval hospital, they stopped McGee from accompanying Gibbs into the exam area. The nurse who pulled him away from the doors made him repeat what he'd told the paramedics and then told him to go wait. By then, Ducky had arrived and they went to the waiting area together.

"Now, my boy, the others are coming, so let me ask this before they arrive: do you need to see a doctor?" Ducky asked, keeping his voice low.

"What? Why? I wasn't drugged, I was pretending, counting on Gibbs' need to take care of me to distract him, that's all."

"That's not what I meant. I am fully capable of reading between the lines. _'Vigorous sex'_ , Timothy," he quoted, and Tim swallowed and looked away. "Did he rape you?" Ducky's voice was barely audible. McGee turned to him and looked him directly in the eye.

" _No_."

"I know he would never hurt you if he were in his right mind, but it is very likely he was under the influence of some substance last night, and if you are hurt you need to seek medical attention. There's no shame in it - "

"Ducky, _no_! I said vigorous sex and that's what it was. It was entirely consentual and nothing we hadn't done before. Please don't make anything out of it; it's going to be difficult enough when everyone finds out we're lovers. We could lose our jobs... Oh, Ducky, I don't really give a damn. He'll be okay, right?" Tim's eyes filled with tears and Ducky put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's all right, my boy. You and I both know Jethro has survived worse than this. I want to be sure that you know he did tell me that you were in a relationship, and I am very happy for you both. I've honestly never seen him so content with anyone, and I've seen him with a good number of individuals over the years. I'm prepared to help in any way you require."

Tim's shoulders sagged with relief. "Oh, thank you. I'm so glad to hear that..."

"What the hell happened? Why were you at that club, were you on a case? Spill, McGoo, _now_ ," Tony stormed into the waiting room and stalked straight up to McGee. McGee ran his hand over his face and stood.

"Ducky, please come get me if there's any word," Tim said. The doctor nodded, and the two agents went outside.

"Tony... Um, are you okay? He didn't hurt you, right?"

"Takes more than that to put a DiNozzo down," he boasted. "But why didn't you tell me you were working last night?"

Tim took a deep breath, wishing he'd discussed how to do this with Gibbs. It had never seemed like a good time to bring it up, and now they'd run out of time. He cleared his throat, squared his shoulders, and faced Tony eye to eye.

"We weren't working. We're in a relationship and we were at the club on a date."

"You are. _You_ are? You're sleeping with the boss? But you're not into guys. You've been very clear on that, McGee. How did this..." For once DiNozzo seemed at a loss for words.

"Tony, I always said I wasn't gay. I never said I wasn't bi. I am. So's Gibbs."

"I know Gibbs is, but... I swear you denied it, I really... But Gibbs? Your boss? Man, that is just one of the dumbest things anyone can do, isn't it? And he's old, I mean, not _old_ old, he's _Gibbs_ , but he's..."

"Oh my god, oh my god! Where is Gibbs? What happened?" Abby rushed up to them, with Ziva following more slowly. "How could he have been drugged? Did they sneak into his house and poison his bottle? Why did he attack Tony? McGee? Why is - "

Tim turned to Abby and took her by the shoulders. "Abby, take a breath!" He waited until she did, taking it with her. All he wanted was to be with Gibbs, to make sure he was going to be okay, but he had to deal with everyone else first. "Okay. Gibbs and I were out at a club last night - " He shook her gently when she started to interrupt. "We're seeing each other, okay? That's not important right now, though. Someone must have slipped something into his bourbon, because he got aggressive and hypersexual and then today he got really defensive of me. Abby, I need you to _think_ , to help me figure out what they might have given him. Ziva, Tony, can you try to think if there's anyone who would want to hurt Gibbs like this?" He was attempting to derail their concern and questions about the relationship, and with Abby it worked; she started spouting various drug combinations which could cause behavior changes. Tony and Ziva were not as easily sidetracked, but they seemed to understand the pleading look he gave them and they began to quietly discuss possibilities. They moved inside and Ducky took over occupying Abby while Tim went to ask for news.

"You're his emergency contact, along with a Donald Mallard. You can come back and sit with him if you like," Tim was told several minutes later when he'd insisted on talking to Gibbs' nurse.

"Ducky," McGee called. "You can come back. Guys, we'll tell you as soon as we know anything."

Seeing Gibbs strapped down in a hospital bed made Tim's stomach turn. Ducky saw his reaction and put a reassuring hand on his back. "Just go sit and talk to him, Timothy, while I find his doctor."

Doing as he was told, he sat down and carefully took Gibbs' hand in his own. "Hey, Gibbs, sweetie, it's me. I told you I'd be with you and now I am. I've gotta warn you, I had to out us. How is it Tony knew you were bi but I didn't? I might have made a move on you sooner if I'd have known... But it doesn't matter. Tony is fine, you didn't hurt him. I'm fine, too. I was just pretending. Oh, _Gibbs_ , I can't believe this happened. Seeing you like this is awful. I hope you're gonna wake up soon..."

Gibbs groaned.

"Gibbs! I'm here. I'm here. You're okay."

His eyes slitted open and he tried to move his arms.

"...the hell?" He muttered.

"Shh, just lay still. You're in restraints. It's okay, stay calm. Everything's okay. Gibbs, can you hear me?"

The blue eyes turned to him and the anger there softened as he saw Tim, who nodded and kept murmuring platitudes.

"Are you okay?" Gibbs interrupted. "Last night..."

"I'm fine. Gibbs, I'm fine."

Gibbs squeezed his hand painfully hard.

" _I hurt you_ ," he whispered. He recalled Tim crying out in more pain than pleasure, recalled biting him and fucking him hard, with little or no lube… And more than once. He closed his eyes.

"Damnit, Jethro, I'm fine!" McGee snapped. The use of his given name stopped Gibbs and he stared hard at Tim, who stood and leaned over him, kissing his forehead, then softy, his lips. "I love you, Gibbs. I'm a little sore, and I've got a few bruises. It was fucking _amazing_ , actually, but right now, my concern is _you_ ; you were drugged with god knows what by who knows who, and all I want right now is for the doctors to tell me that you're okay."

"It seems so, dear boy," Ducky said, walking in with a short Asian woman, who elaborated.

"MDMA: Ecstasy, almost out of your system now. You also have an unusually high level of testosterone, so we suspect you were dosed with that, too. It made you euphoric, and as the X high wore off, you experienced a more severe come down than normal. Irritability, anger, and paranoia were exacerbated by the testosterone levels and made you aggressive. We're flushing your system," she gestured at the IV hanging at his side, "and I want you to drink plenty of water for the next few days, then get your blood tested again, but you should be fine as your testosterone levels begin to return to normal."

Gibbs frowned and looked at Tim. "I want to find who did this," he growled.

"Ah, no. Agent Gibbs, you will be on medical leave for the next week. Get used to dealing with the moods from the raised testosterone before you get into any situations which could produce adrenalin. Take some time off and relax. I'll have the restraints removed."

The doctor left and Tim snickered. Gibbs glared at him. " _Relax_. _You_ , home alone. Yeah, right."

"You'll just have to solve this case so that you can take a long weekend together to relax," Ducky advised.

"Um, yeah, we'll have to see about whether I'm gonna even be allowed to stay on your team," Tim said. Gibbs frowned. "They know. Tony and Ziva and Abby; they're all here, waiting to see you."

A CNA came in to remove the restraints, and Tim kissed Gibbs' forehead again, smoothing his hair back. "I'll go tell them you're okay. Be right back." Gibbs nodded and his eyes followed as his lover left the room, watching for any hitch in his step or other indication he was hurt more than he'd let on.

"Jethro, the boy says he's fine. I'm sure he'll let you make it up to him later, but continuing to snap at him won't be helpful. Try and relax," Ducky admonished his old friend. The CNA finished with the straps and left the room.

"I want out of here, Duck. I want to find the bastard who did this. I could have hurt Tim last night, and Tony this morning. I want the person responsible."

"You heard the doctor. You will not be allowed to work this case. As soon as she signs off, I suggest you let Timothy take you home - "

"Actually, could you do that, Ducky? I'll need to go back with Tony and open the case," McGee put his head into the room. "Gibbs, are you ready to see them?"

Gibbs pushed the button on the bed until he was sitting up and sighed, nodding. Abby was first in, squealing and hugging him, and he patted her back and reassured her. A long look shared with DiNozzo put the attack to rest between them, and they shook hands. Ziva assured him they would find who had done this to him, and then the arrival of the doctor sent everyone but Tim and Ducky out. Tim whispered to Gibbs and kissed him lightly, then with a squeeze of his hand and a nod to Ducky, he followed the others.

Walking into the waiting area, Tony shook his head. "Boss and Probie? How did I miss that?"

"He did not tell me about it either, Tony. Do not feel bad," Ziva replied. She kept muttering to herself and shaking her head.

Abby's voice was hurt and confused. "Yeah, but he should've told _me_. I'm his best friend! He said he was working on gender identity, but he never told me he was bi or that he and Gibbs - "

"Wait, gender identity? McGee's a _tranny_? What the hell?" DiNozzo's jaw dropped.

"I'm not a tranny, Tony, not like what you're thinking," McGee stated, walking in on the last of the conversation. He set his jaw and tried not to glare at Abby. "I'd have liked to tell him myself, Abs," he said to her. She slapped both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. His head inclined as he saw she hadn't intended to spill his secret. "Look, Tony, I'll tell you about it later. For now, just know that I'm not planning a sex-change, and I don't cross dress, okay? Now can we get back to the Yard so we can start the investigation?"

The case went easily. A member of the waitstaff from Verse, an intersex male to female, had quit the night before, gone home, and killed herself. Several patrons had been drugged, all dates of people the individual had hit on in the past and been shot down by. Tim only vaguely remembered a time many months before that she had given him her phone number. The mix of a very pure ecstasy and a massive dose of testosterone was a vicious plan to get the objects of her unrequited attention assaulted, and Tim found he had very little sympathy for her. Two victims of the drug had gotten violent in the club and been thrown out by the bouncers, and Tim was determined to try to track down anyone else, if only to check to be sure the poisoner hadn't succeeded in getting anyone raped.

They'd found her body at her apartment when they'd gone to question her, and Ducky and Palmer had arrived together after that.

"I got Jethro settled at home," Ducky had assured McGee. "He only agreed to stay put if you would go to him tonight, however."

As they were cataloging the crime scene, though there were no indicators of foul play and it appeared to be a cut and dried suicide, DiNozzo began questioning McGee.

"So you're not pulling a whole Crying Game, but you have gender issues? What's that about?"

Tim sighed. "There are dozens of genders. You saw the news reports about Facebook offering more than fifty genders for users to self-identify, right?"

"C'mon, man, there's only two sets of plumbing. I mean, I get Rodney-turned-Rhonda here," he gestured toward the bedroom. "But if you aren't Timothea, what's the prob?"

"When you're talking about plumbing, you're referring to the sex of the person. Gender is about how you feel inside, and it's not always one or the other. I... I've been thinking about it a lot, and I am coming to terms with the fact that I have a lot of feminine in me. I always have had. Trying to be alpha male, super masculine was like trying to wear a shirt that didn't fit, it was uncomfortable, and it just felt wrong, but I felt like I had to keep wearing it. I'm learning that it's okay to be just who I am, masculine, feminine, and anything in between, or even outside of those."

Tim surprised himself with the ease at which he explained what he'd been going through. He'd found the shirt analogy on an androgyny website and it had really stuck in his mind. The original writer had added that it was a hair shirt that chafed and caused a lot of pain, and had made Tim sad for the person and grateful that his experience hadn't ever been that bad.

Delivering the evidence from the apartment to Abby when they finished at the scene, Tim wasn't sure what his welcome would be. Abby signed all the chain of evidence forms and then they stood and stared at each other in discomfort.

" - I'm sorry I didn't tell you - "

" - I didn't mean to tell Tony - "

They spoke simultaneously.

"You go first," Abby said immediately.

"Abs, I'm sorry I didn't tell you we're together. I didn't tell _anybody_."

"How long has it been?"

"Eight months."

Abby stared. "I can't believe you were able to keep a secret from me for that long, Timmy."

"I was scared you'd feel threatened. I know how much Gibbs means to you."

Her head tilted. "And you. You're my two favorite people, McGee. But don't tell Tony that."

Tim shook his head, his fear of losing her easing and slowly beginning to unclench his gut.

"You really love him? He really loves you?"

He nodded. "We're so great together, Abs. We laugh and we started dancing, and he's making me a desk, and the sex is mind-blowing, his stamina - "

Abby threw her hands up. "No. That's the line, McGee. No sex talk."

"Whatever you want, Abby. Just please know that nothing has to change in your relationship with either of us."

"Well, _duh_ , McGee. If I didn't know for eight months that means nothing changed. So, I'm sorry I blabbed to Tony about your gender identity crisis."

"To be honest, I'm glad all the secrets are out now. Tony will be okay. I just hope Ziva can accept it, and that this doesn't break up the team when we tell Vance."

"Why do you have to tell him?"

"Well, the whole freakout on DiNozzo thing happened on the premises, and there were witnesses, and it would require a huge cover up if we didn't... I need to just have it out there, whatever the consequences."

Abby's cocked head and sympathetic look showed her concern for him and the team, and he gratefully accepted her hug.

~~~NCIS~~~

Later, when they had finished for the day, McGee called and informed Gibbs of the outcome of their investigation, receiving only a grunt in return.

"I talked a little with Tony. I'd like to talk some more with him, just make sure he's okay with...me, and with us, but I feel like I should come right home to you..."

"I'm fine. Go get a beer. Just come over after?" Gibbs sounded grumpy and frustrated, but Tim smiled that he still expressed wanting to see him.

"I won't be late. There's left over chicken alfredo in the fridge."

"I can feed myself, damnit, I'm not an invalid."

"No alcohol."

"Oh for pete's sake!"

"I mean it. I'll come home _right now_ if you don't promise not to drink."

"I won't drink. Go out with Tony. I'll see you later."

From anyone else Tim would have described his tone as sullen.

"I love you, Gibbs."

"Me, too."

So McGee and DiNozzo went out for drinks. Ziva had bowed out, and Tim wistfully wondered if their relationship would ever recover, but he was pleased at how Tony took his explanations. He even apologized when it hit him that all the teasing Tim had reacted badly to in the last few months had been related to gender identity.

"And I thought you were just being too sensitive," DiNozzo shook his head. "But, now, Gibbs... _You and Gibbs_? How does _that_ work? I mean, I get how it _works_ , but... You're not even a redhead, Probie."

Tim smiled. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, I've been in love with Gibbs for a long time now," he started.

"I know. I mean, I thought it was a daddy thing or hero worship - wait, you don't call him daddy, right? 'Cause that would be - "

"No, Tony," he rolled his eyes. "None of this is a daddy thing. I...I was attracted to him from the beginning, and over time, as we got to know each other... I love him," he shrugged.

"You were very sly keeping being bi from me. You never lied, did you? You just avoided the truth."

McGee shrugged again. "I'm a lousy liar, so I speak carefully."

"So you love the boss-man, but how did he... I mean, no offense, Probalicious, but you aren't exactly his type."

Tim nodded. "I've asked him about that. He..." Thinking quickly, he wondered how much personal information he should share. "Okay, so, the ex-wives were all redheads and really volatile, right? Well, that's fun, but it gets old fast, y'know? Fighting and making up is fine occasionally, but when it's the basis of the relationship?"

Tony nodded. "I guess I can see that. But he's a woodworker and you're allergic to sawdust, man! He builds boats and you get seasick! You're cutting edge and he's anti-technology! You're - "

"He's not anti-technology. He appreciates how fast computers get answers for him at work. He just doesn't have the patience to learn it himself."

"Patience? The man doesn't use electric tools!"

Tim smiled. "Gibbs is a man of contradictions."

"And that! You call him Gibbs?"

"Yeah, mostly. He doesn't mind." McGee considered the one time he'd called Gibbs Jethro and decided it should be saved for getting his attention.

They talked for a while longer, then Tim saw the time. "Look, Tony, I really wanna get home and check on him."

"Home? You living en la casa de Gibbs?"

"Not... _yet_."

"Okay. Well, when you need help moving..."

Tim was touched by the offer. " _Thanks_ , Tony."

They rose and DiNozzo clapped him on the shoulder. "No problem, McGirlGuy," he grinned and McGee just shook his head and smiled back, feeling not a twinge of hurt.

When Tony dropped Tim off at Gibbs' house, he went in and had to wake his lover where he'd gone to sleep on the couch reading. Taking the open book off his chest and putting it on the end table with his page carefully marked, he then brushed his hand through the silver hair and kissed his forehead. When Gibbs' eyes blinked open, Tim smiled.

"Reading, huh? Didn't feel like working downstairs?"

"I'm too wound up," Gibbs grumped. "I have no patience."

"Okay. Ready to come to bed?"

He grunted and rose. They went upstairs and undressed, climbing into bed together. Gibbs cringed inwardly at the bruises on Tim's back and hips, and the bite marks he could see on his shoulders as well as the ones he knew were on the delicate skin of his inner thighs. Tim ignored his scrutiny and started to kiss Gibbs and slowly stroke his body, but Gibbs stopped him.

"I'm not gonna risk anything," Gibbs said with finality. Tim sighed and agreed, turning on his side.

"You called me Jethro," Gibbs pointed out as they lay in the dark, Tim spooned before him to assuage his protectiveness.

"Yeah, I needed to get your attention."

"I know I hurt you," he said softly, kissing the back of Tim's head. He felt the sigh that went through the younger man.

"It was rough sex. I'm sore. But it was intense and erotic and I loved having you go completely wild for me, even knowing it was chemically aided. I feel kinda bad that I also enjoyed how you defended me with Tony, too," Tim brought Gibbs' hand to his lips and kissed it gently. Gibbs' grip tightened on him, and he snuggled back against him contentedly.

"Mmm, I'd do anything to keep you safe, Tim," Gibbs murmured. He was beginning to doze. Tim frowned, knowing it was true and that that fact was exactly the reason spouses were barred from serving on the same team. It was a problem they would have to face as soon as Gibbs returned to work, and he spent over an hour considering their options before falling asleep with no better idea of any way to deal with it.

~~~NCIS~~~

The team was restricted to desk work while Gibbs was out, which, once they were all caught up on their normal paperwork, meant cold cases. The only benefit of that was that they got to go home on time. Tim, always efficient and conscientious about his reports, was already running new backgrounds for a murder from '02 by the end of the first day. Quitting time came, and he was surprised when Ziva hurried to join him in the elevator, knowing she wasn't ready to leave yet. Still, he gave her a half-smile and a nod as the doors shut, and he wasn't shocked when she hit the emergency stop.

"McGee... _Tim_ , I wish to explain myself to you," she began. Tim waited quietly. "When you spoke to me about your gender concerns, I was...unkind." She held up her hand when he tried to deny it. "At the very least, I was not compassionate or understanding, and you are my friend. I should have been - _nicer_." Sighing, she began to pace the tiny space. "I though that all the time we were spending together meant...something more to you than it did. I thought it showed that you were interested in me in a romantic way. We grew very close very quickly, and I was unsure if I wanted anything more, so I did nothing. When you told me about your gender, I felt that that somehow threatened any possibility for what I thought you wanted, and I needed time to decide if I was grieving the loss of opportunity or relieved, or something else. I am not a woman who is deeply in touch with her feelings, so it has taken time... And now you are with Gibbs. I feel foolish for not speaking to you sooner about my misunderstanding. I know that I have hurt you, and you are my dear, dear friend, so I would like to apologize."

McGee waited to be sure she was done talking, then he pulled her into a quick hug. "Thank you, Ziva. You are _so_ important to me. I forgive you, and I'm sorry I wasn't straight with you from the beginning. I...I feel like our time together allowed me to be myself in a way I wasn't able to be with anyone else until Gibbs," he bit his lip and confessed. "I kept thinking of our time as 'girl time'. Does that...my gender fluidity, does it freak you out? I'm still _me_..."

Ziva put her hands on either side of his face and looked deeply into his eyes. "You are a beautiful person, Tim. If you are a sister to me or a brother, it does not matter. You are my friend."

Tim felt himself getting choked up. "I love you, Zee. I want to keep having girl's nights with you."

"I would like that."

She rode down to the garage with him then remained in the elevator when he walked to his car.

At his apartment, he ran up the stairs, unaware of how free his movements were until he carefully went back down to his car with two big armfuls of his clothes. Picking his way down the stairs, he realized he was moving more like he did when he danced; unselfconsciously, placing his feet one directly before the other, making his hips sway. He grinned, and when he'd deposited his load in the back of his car, allowed himself a giggle and a little hop of joy before he ran back upstairs for another few personal items he wanted to take to the house. As awful as it was to have had Gibbs be victimized, being _out_ not only in his gender identity but in their relationship was a very heavy weight off of his shoulders, and one of the final pieces toward his acceptance of himself at the level where he could consider moving in with his lover.

Not even Gibbs' staunch refusal to have any form of sex could bring him down. Each day that week after work, Tim went to his apartment and gathered more of his living essentials to bring to the house, and he waited, watching for Gibbs' reaction as the older man helped him carry a load of books and some of his electronics supplies, but shrugging mentally when he remained stoic.

Gibbs did notice, of course. He was finding that his temper remained off the chart, so he was keeping nearly mute to avoid any possibility of even speaking hurtfully to Tim. The indications Tim was making with bringing more of his belongings over had Gibbs guardedly pleased, and he spent a whole day completely cleaning one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, moving boxes either to a giveaway pile or the attic depending on the contents. Keeping the door shut to hide his intentions from Tim, the next day he took the giveaway boxes to the local charity and went shopping. He found a workbench and stool for Tim's electronics projects, along with a small shelving unit, and a basic desk. All were second hand but usable, since Gibbs would have to wait until he actually discussed with Tim whether he was completely moving in or just keeping extra items at the house. He thought that the mahogany desk would look great in the room, and if Tim agreed, they could move it up there as soon as he finished staining it.

That evening, when Tim arrived with another carload of his stuff, Gibbs brought the boxes upstairs to what he was privately thinking of as Tim's office. Tim followed him, seeing that the boxes he'd brought the day before were no longer in the dining room.

The joy that spread across Tim's face when he saw the room was worthy of speech.

"I'm glad you like it," Gibbs said, when Tim put the box he was carrying down and flung himself at Gibbs in a hug with Abby-level enthusiasm. "We can move anything else you want...whenever."

"Oh, Gibbs! Thank you! This is... _amazing_. Thank you. _So_ much."

Gibbs breathed deeply of the scent of Tim as he continued to hold him. Not being intimate was as hard on him as it was on Tim, but he refused to risk losing control and hurting him again. He'd considered asking Ducky about when the doctor thought it would be safe to have sex again, but it seemed too embarrassing of a topic, even with his old friend. He'd wait until he was sure. He would not hurt Tim again if he could possibly help it.

~~~NCIS~~~

Gibbs' refusal to have sex with Tim continued through the work week before Tim finally put his foot down on Saturday morning. It had been nearly a week, and after all the months of being very sexually active together, Tim refused to wait any longer.

"I know you're worried about hurting me, Gibbs, but I'm not waiting until your testosterone levels return to normal," he said, stepping back. He'd come up behind Gibbs while he brushed his teeth, slid his hands around his middle, and started nibbling in the back of his neck. When he hadn't gotten any response, he'd slid one hand up to Gibbs' extremely erogenous nipple. The response was a growl and a shake, dislodging Tim from holding him. Gibbs rinsed his mouth and turned around, but Tim had stubbornly blocked his exit from the room.

"No."

Tim had the temerity to roll his eyes, and Gibbs' face flushed as he felt fury heat his gut. He clenched his fists and shook his head.

"Get out of the way."

Tim dropped the attitude and stepped closer. Pushing Gibbs until they could have pissed off, angry sex would only make things worse. A better idea came to Tim and he felt a nervous flutter in his belly. He stopped a breath away from his lover.

"You don't want to risk hurting me," McGee stated, then he paused. Gibbs calmed down a bit when the other man made no move to touch him. He nodded slightly. "Do you trust _me_ not to hurt _you_?" Tim's voice dropped to a low, husky whisper, and Gibbs' eyes widened a fraction. Their breath sped up and became matched.

"I - trust you," Gibbs finally replied. He'd agreed some time ago to let Tim top, and it would only be fair at this point. He'd survived a painful bottoming experience decades ago, and there was no way Tim would be as rough as the other man had been. Hell, he deserved it, and worse. He'd take it as a punitive action and maybe his guilt would ease from the punishment.

McGee almost rolled his eyes again when he read the thoughts that flitted across Gibbs' face as he clenched his and he nodded in resignation. He looked like he'd agreed to a caning. A small sigh escaped Tim, but the realization of what was about to happen overwhelmed his annoyance at Gibbs' assumption that he'd cause him pain; that he wanted Gibbs to bottom as some kind of retaliation. Thinking of the feel of a hot, tight ass around him made Tim blush, blood rushing not only to his cheeks at the sense memory. It had been over five years since he'd topped, and he was suddenly eager to do so now. He took Gibbs' hand and led him to the bedroom.

Kissing him sensuously only heightened the tension in Gibbs, and Tim shook his head. He pushed Gibbs back onto the bed and tugged the older man's boxers off. He evidenced no arousal.

Gibbs watched when Tim moved to draw the dark drapes over the windows, then turn on the lamp on the nightstand and partially cover it with a lightweight red shirt. The effect was cocooning and Gibbs relaxed fractionally. Tim put music on low, a mournful sounding jazz that soothed Gibbs further. His blood finally began to heat when his lover came back to the foot of the bed and slowly started to undress. As the alabaster skin was revealed, Gibbs lost himself in the view, beginning to grow hard.

Tim smiled as his preparations allowed Gibbs begin to let go. When his stepped out of his underwear, revealing just how aroused he was, he saw Gibbs' jaw clench and his half-hard cock start to deflate. Shaking his head, Tim climbed onto the bed and ran his tongue from base to head, then sucking the tip between his lips and probing the slit.

"Oh, Jesus!" Gibbs groaned, and Tim smiled as his mouth filled as he grew erect. He continued to lick and suck for a few minutes before he released and crawled up to kiss Gibbs passionately, resting his full weight on the older man, trapping their cocks between their bodies and moaning at the feel of their sensitive skin sliding against each other as he settled. Gibbs's voice answered the sound, and their kiss became aggressive, battling tongue and lips and teeth.

Finally, panting, Tim broke away and stared into Gibbs' eyes. His pupils were so dilated there was only a tiny ring of blue, and his lips were swollen, cheeks flushed. God, he was the most gorgeous sight Tim had ever seen. He pushed up and rolled Gibbs over onto his stomach. Kissing and biting Gibbs's neck and shoulders, Tim reached across to the nightstand for the lube, dropping it beside them. Gibbs' head was turned away from him, and he knew he'd seen the retrieval when the muscles under his lips tensed. Tim ignored it, confident he would be bringing his lover so much pleasure he might even beg to be fucked. Well, maybe not. Tim didn't think he'd have the patience to make Gibbs that wild for it. _This_ time. But he'd still make this a great experience for him, one he'd be willing and even eager to repeat. Tim would get him to beg later.

Shifting his focus to releasing the tension in Gibbs' strong shoulders, Tim started on a back rub.

"Why don't you just get it over with?" Gibbs grumbled. Tim slapped his ass, hard enough to leave a hand print. "Hey! I didn't agree to _that_!"

Tim moved, rolling Gibbs over so he lay on his back. He glared down at him. "Did you lie when you said you trust me?" He demanded.

"No."

"Well, then, as tempting as it is to blister your ass for acting like a petulant child, I won't do that," he leaned forward, putting his hands to either side of Gibbs' head and bringing his face close. "Gibbs, I _am_ gonna fuck you, but not until you're out of your mind with pleasure from everything I'm gonna do to get you ready. I'm gonna slide into you, I'm gonna _possess_ you, and you're going to enjoy it. You are gonna come with my dick in your ass; you're gonna feel me when I shoot my load inside you, and believe me, _trust me_ , when I say you are going to _love_ it. Now stop bitching and let me show you how good it can be."

Gibbs' eyes had grown wide, staring up at Tim. This version of him was completely masculine, totally in control, and was amazingly sexy. He believed every word, and the trepidation he'd felt since he agreed to bottom melted away in the heat of Tim's scorching proclamation.

Months of experience with his lover's body gave Tim the knowledge to do exactly what he'd said he would. His mouth and fingers played Gibbs like a maestro, hitting every hot spot and teasing him to head-thrashing arousal before he finally lubed his fingers and eased the tip of one into him. Gibbs' instinctive push against the intrusion was just right to allow Tim to slide his finger all the way in.

Gibbs' gasp against Tim's mouth made him smile, and when he crooked the finger to stroke Gibbs' prostate, the cry he gave as his hips jerked made Tim pause and concentrate on the periodic table, reciting it backwards for a dozen elements before he could continue without coming.

McGee had spent nearly half an hour winding him up before that first penetration. Gibbs was as aroused as he had ever been in his life, and when that long, elegant finger caressed inside him, he lost it. He could feel the pleasure from his curling toes to a tingle in the back of his throat. It was like the moment before his orgasm hit: that strung out, suspended moment before the rush. He shuddered and suddenly understood. He wanted Tim, hard and throbbing, inside him, pushing him again and again to that sense of _-almost-_ then finally to make the world explode.

"Yes-yes, Tim, _yes_ ," he mumbled. Tim closed his eyes and soaked the moment in, the total surrender from this powerful, brave man whom he loved so fiercely.

A second finger joined the first, stretching, preparing, and Tim carefully stroked the cluster of nerves as he moved. Gibbs was totally lost in the pleasure Tim was providing, and Tim bit his lip and rose on his elbow so he could watch as the silver-crowned head tossed restlessly and profanities and affirmatives mixed with his name rolled from Gibbs' lips.

Shaking, restraining himself, Tim lowered his head to nibble on Gibbs' nipple just as he pressed a third finger into him. He tongued the hard nub where it nestled in Gibbs' coarse chest hair and carefully curled his middle finger inside him.

There was some discomfort at the wide stretch, but the immense pleasure surging through him made it barely noticeable. Gibbs was no longer aware of the bed beneath him. The entire universe had contracted to himself and Tim, and the feeling of what Tim was doing to his body.

"Fuck...Tim...need... _god_! Gotta...oh...ah..."

It was as close as Tim could imagine to Gibbs begging, and he was done waiting. He withdrew his fingers, rolling on top of Gibbs as he rubbed the lube onto himself. Kneeling, he pulled Gibbs' lean thighs up so he could press the head of his cock up against him.

"Gibbs...oh, _Gibbs_..." Tim whimpered. Gibbs opened his eyes and Tim pushed forward, choking on a sob at the squeeze as his head spread the older man and finally slipped past the ring of muscle. He froze.

There was finally pain, a burning as Tim entered him, but instead of lessening the pleasure, it provided a counterpoint as his legs shook and he wanted more, needed to feel Tim inside him, on top of him, all around him. With a drawn out groan, he shoved his ass hard against Tim's slim hips, drawing him in, fulfilling the need. Tim's cry when he bottomed out was half-surprise, half-ecstasy, and Gibbs felt the pulsing as the younger man came.

Tim couldn't stop it. The sound Gibbs made as he forced Tim deep into the heat and the pressure was too much and his orgasm triggered without his volition. After a long moment, he fell forward onto Gibbs' chest, their sweat mingling, breath gasping, hearts pounding.

Gibbs knew what Tim was capable of: his quick recovery time when highly aroused as well as his ability to climax multiple times. So he waited only a minute or two before he started moving, rubbing his erection against Tim's stomach.

McGee groaned at the friction against his over-sensitized but still mostly hard cock. Gibbs' near-virgin tightness was like a cock ring, keeping him erect. The movement was pleasurable agony on his still twitching flesh.

"More," Gibbs grunted. And the order, the raw need in the voice, made Tim shudder and shift himself to obey. He'd worked Gibbs to the edge of madness; he couldn't leave him hanging.

Tim moved just a little bit, giving a few small thrusts as he got fully hard again. The response of a choking near-whimper from Gibbs drove him crazy. He propped up on his elbows and kissed his lover bruisingly hard before he pulled out and gave a powerful thrust. Gibbs' neck arched and he cried out, and it was on.

Shoving deep again and again into the hot sheath of Gibbs' body, Tim reveled just how good it felt to top. That it was _Gibbs_ , the person he loved more than anyone, avowed top himself, opening before him, face screwed up in a completely different ecstatic expression than he'd ever seen before, made the experience profoundly intense.

Gibbs' eyes were squinched closed, and Tim could tell he was totally focused inward, but Tim needed to share the awareness of the profundity of this experience with him, so he called his name as he continued to rock in the slick tight passage. Not getting the response he wanted, Tim grunted and tried again.

"Jethro!" He snapped, his voice sharp. Gibbs' eyes snapped open and Tim's lips peeled back from his teeth in a feral smile.

His name spoken that way brought Gibbs to awareness and he stared up at the flushed, triumphant face of his lover. He watched as the expression on Tim's face softened into pure adoration. Every other consideration fell away in the emotional torrent that poured through him. He hadn't known a love like this existed, had never felt anything like it before. He was drowning in it and pulled it into himself gladly as some broken part of him was utterly destroyed in the onslaught. He'd always been emotional during sex, as if it were the only time his armor could ever fall away, but this was tenfold, a _hundredfold_ , magnitudes more than that. His soul had been laid bare, and the glowing adoration in Tim's eyes held it safeguarded, providing something stronger than the armor he'd always wrapped himself in.

A transformation was happening in Gibbs while Tim continued loving him; he could see some kind of re-birth taking place, and he was shaken to the deepest part of himself by the raw vulnerability he sensed. He knew that sex sometimes freed Gibbs to express himself emotionally in ways he never could otherwise, but this seemed to be so much more.

It was unbearable, the build up, physically, emotionally; it had to culminate, Tim couldn't stand the intensity any longer. He nodded a question to Gibbs while he raised up and reach for the man's cock. The relieved, gasping nod gave him permission. He gripped the rock hard flesh and stroked as he shifted to stimulate Gibbs in the most direct way possible, humping hard, panting, sweat rolling over him.

_Yes!_ It was nearing, the explosion of sensation that would complete him, complete _them_. _Close, so close!_

Tears filled Tim's eyes, and when Gibbs' body arched and a primal screaming howl tore free from him as he came, the clenching on his cock nearly caused him to pass out as his own climax washed out his vision, along with his awareness of everything except the head of his cock buried in the molten, rippling heat of Gibbs' body.

It was over. Gibbs was sure that this was it, his heart was giving out and he was dying. His body was turning inside out, white hot pulses mirroring what he was certain were the final beats of his heart. _What a way to go..._

Tim's weight collapsing onto him caused Gibbs' breath to whoosh out, and the firm reality of the younger man's trembling, shaking body atop him forced Gibbs to acknowledge that he was still alive. Not only that, but he'd just had the most affecting sexual experience of his life, and he'd had it bottoming. He had no idea what to think about that, so he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his lover. Not only was Tim trembling, he was sobbing softly, and Gibbs put his arms closer around him and soothed him.

"Tim. Mmm, Timmy, baby, oh, Tim," he murmured, until Tim finally raised his head and looked at him.

Sniffing and taking a final shuddering breath, Tim dared a question. "Are you okay?"

Gibbs brought his hands up and cupped his face. "I have _never_ been better. Tim... Oh, Tim, I can't say it enough: I love you."

Tim's eyes widened and filled with tears again.

"Hey! Hey... What is it? Tim?" Gibbs hadn't meant to make him cry more.

"You...you've never said the words before. You've told me, you've shown me, in all kinds of ways, but you never said... Oh Gibbs, please, _please_ , say it again? Please?"

"Say what? I love you? I've said it before. Every time you say it, I say it."

"No. No, you say 'me too'. Say it... Gibbs, will you look into my eyes and say it, please?"

Gibbs shifted, wanting a direct view of Tim, and when he rolled, Tim's cock slid out of him and there was a moment when he regretted the loss. He paused, then they were laying face to face, sharing a pillow. He brought his hand up to hold Tim's cheek, using his thumb to wipe the tears away.

"Timothy McGee... _My_ Tim... I love you. I love you more than I could ever have imagined or hoped for. I love you more than..." He closed his eyes for a moment, unable to say it, to compare his first and last loves. "More than anything."

Tim's eyes shone. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I love you. If it's okay, I want to let my apartment go and stay here, with you, and make a home...and a life. A new life. Together."

It felt formal, almost ritualistic, and Gibbs took it for the declaration that it was.

"Yes. Together."

Tim kissed him joyfully.

~~~NCIS~~~

With Tony and Ziva's help, they moved the last of Tim's belongings to Gibbs' house the next day. Putting Tim's newer bed in the master bedroom, they moved Gibbs' bed into the third bedroom, with Gibbs quietly asking if Tim would mind decorating it for a guest room, which made Tim beam. Ziva helped Tim make the master up with the bedding from IKEA while Tony and Gibbs rearranged Tim's office with his workbench and some of the shelves from the apartment, leaving room for the mahogany desk in a prominent spot. The remaining shelves went into the garage, their fate to be decided later.

The team sat on the front stoop and drank a beer together and then Ziva and Tony left, leaving the couple alone. Tim looked at where Gibbs stood, just inside the door. They had some glaring reality to face. He'd never lived with someone outside of family and college. Their work life was likely to change radically when they spoke to Vance. The only thing he was sure of was that he was finally whole, and he and Gibbs shared a love which would weather the years. He smiled a special smile as he stepped over the threshold toward Gibbs, who stood waiting to start their new life.

Together, as promised.

~~~The End~~~

_A/N I sincerely hope this was a satisfying ending for you. I loved writing this so much that I hate to see it end, but there are always more stories waiting to be told._


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